


there moves a thread that has no end

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Smallville RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-14
Updated: 2007-07-13
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8700388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sometimes you get a second chance to see what’s right in front of you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** there moves a thread that has no end.  
**Author:** [ ](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/profile)[**keepaofthecheez**](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/)  
**Pairing:** Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles (minor Jensen/OMC’s, Jensen/OFC’s)  
**Rating/Warnings:** NC-17 | m/m slash, real person fiction, abuse of schmoop  
**Word Count:** 20,209 words.  
**Summary:** Sometimes you get a second chance to see what’s right in front of you.   
**Notes:** See end of fic. Written for [ ](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/profile)[**spn_j2_bigbang**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/).  
  
  
  
  
 

  
  
**There moves a thread that has no end.  
By keepaofthecheez.**

  
  
 

Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light / To chase a feather in the wind /   
Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight / There moves a thread that has no end  
**[ [all my love // led zeppelin]](http://www.megaupload.com/?d=B0TCVT5M)**




  
  
  
  
**Cold Open.**  
  
  
“So, I’m gay. And I just wanted you to know. Officially and all.”  
  
Last day of filming for the season, and Jared decides it’s the perfect opportunity to throw their comfortable “don’t ask, don’t tell” regime right out the fucking window. Then again, Padalecki’s never really been one for subtlety, so Jensen wonders why it’s even taken _this_ long to find those big brown-green eyes gazing back at him, looking for all the world like Jared’s afraid. Of what, Jensen can’t figure out. Because it’s not like he doesn’t already _know_.  
  
It’s been three months since Jared broke up with Sandy, since Jensen walked in on his friend and a guest star “rehearsing” one of the week’s final scenes in Jared’s trailer. Jensen couldn’t particularly recall the moment in question-- _“Uh, Sam doesn’t blow the motel clerk in **my** script, Jay”_ \--and Jared was acting plenty weird enough after the fact that Jensen just didn’t bother joking around about it anymore.  
  
Now, though. Apparently their time’s run out, making way for awkwardness and nervous tension. And really, it’s just plain _dumb._ Because, hell, Jensen gets it. And even if he didn’t, he still wouldn’t give a flying fuck if Jared liked it up the ass or down his throat. He just cares about _Jared_ in the end.  
  
And so he says as much, and there’s a split-second’s relief on Jared’s face before his friend’s eyes go all narrowed, pink lips pursing together. Jensen runs his words back through his head, trying to figure out where he might’ve possibly misstepped-- _“Well, uh, yeah, I kind of figured, man”_ \--but Jared’s already got Jensen’s wrist between long fingers. Then he’s pulling Jensen back behind his trailer, and Jensen goes a little stiff. Remembers Jonathon’s moaning, hands wrapped in Jared’s messy curls, and Jared’s spit-slick, shiny mouth…  
  
It comes out before he can think better of it, two shades too worried. Maybe something else less easy to put a name to. “Jared, I…I don’t like you that way.”  
  
If he’s expecting hurt, guilt, anger, he’s sadly mistaken. Jared’s gaze widens, he lets go of Jensen’s arm as his mouth stretches, and then… And then he’s _laughing,_ full-on cackling with his arms around his middle and tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.  
  
“Dude, I’m not. Did you think…?” He can barely get it out between giggles, and Jensen’s starting to feel like a fucking sideshow at the carnival the way Jared’s staring at him. Disbelief, incredulity, edged with a hilarity that has Jensen’s hackles rising even as Jared adds, “Jensen, _no._ I’m not even trying to hit on you, man.”  
  
“Then what the fuck?” His voice is cold, controlled, but Jensen can’t help it.   
  
“I just wanted you to _know_ , and like…if you had any questions or anything.” Jared’s laughter subsides to hiccups, and he sobers even more on catching the glare Jensen’s throwing his way. “Not everyone wants a ticket on the Ackles Express.”  
  
Jensen has about three seconds to be offended-- _or should he be impressed?_ \--and then Jared’s laughing again, the sound friendly and teasing, and Jensen can’t help but smile. Shove Jared’s shoulder. “Asshole.”  
  
“Sooo not my type,” Jared sings, backing away and tossing off an extremely flamboyant handwave that has Jensen rolling his eyes. Jared’s teeth flash and he turns away, whistling.  
  
“Where you going, anyway?” Jensen calls, hipshot against his car, keys in his hand. “Thought we were gonna meet up with the others, grab a drink?” Celebrate a season damned-well done, and bullshit each other about all the ways the network was gonna be bending over backwards to get them back next year.  
  
Jared’s smile falters for a flash of a moment, and Jensen sees the end of their friendship through a blinding white tunnel. _This is it, it’s all out now, we’re not gonna be able to…_   
  
“I’ll meet you there.”   
  
Jensen just nods. The bright smile and ever-enthusiastic tone is back, and Jensen’s left wondering if he imagined the weird moment altogether.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“You boys are just growing up too damn quick for me to handle.” Mike taps his glass against Tom’s. “Second season a wrap…hell, I’m so proud. Somebody hold me.”  
  
Jensen meets Jared’s gaze, lips turning up at the edges when Jared makes a face and scoots his chair closer toward Jensen. They’re both way too aware of Michael’s sentimentality when he’s drunk, and neither one of them want to get caught in the crossfire, wind up with a lipful of touchy-feely Rosenbaum.   
  
Once was enough for Jensen, and he still hasn’t gotten the taste of Mike’s Listerine toothpaste out of his mouth from his farewell party on _Smallville._ Jared…well, Jensen’s not quite sure how exactly, but his friend definitely knows better, too.  
  
Which leaves Tom, as per usual, not that Tom seems to give a damn. He’s patting Mike on the back, expression resigned and rumbly voice murmuring, “There, there” as Jensen and Jared lean close together and snicker. And everything feels back to normal.  
  
“It’s just.” Michael sniffles, waving his hand and nearly upending some quality whiskey all over Tom’s shirt. “It’s just that, you know, it makes me all…Tom, what’s it make me again?”  
  
“Nostalgic.”  
  
“Right.” Michael turns toward his best friend, smooching Tom on the cheek. “That. You know me so well, Tommy boy.” He promptly passes out.   
  
Tom sighs, gaze daring either of them to say anything. Jared mimes zipping his lips, and Jensen just grins. “So, what you guys got going for hiatus?” Tom asks, shifting in his seat so that Mike can lean comfortably against his shoulder, only to have his friend start snoring right into his neck. “Anything fun lined up?”  
  
Never one to miss an opportunity for discreet debauchery--and Tom’s newly single status has made him more than a little willing to get up to some--Jensen perks up. Hopeful grin, spreading his hands out wide. “Hey, I’m open to suggestions.”  
  
He shoots a look toward Jared, who’s smiling a bit goofily, and he already knows the words that’ll come out of his co-star’s mouth. Could recite them in his fucking sleep, even.  
  
“I’m gonna head home for awhile, see the family.”  
  
Tom and Jensen exchange meaningful glances.   
  
Because it’s not that Jared going home is so out of the ordinary…in fact, that’s exactly the problem. Every time they get more than a weekend to themselves, Jared’s on the first plane back to San Antonio, and Jensen doesn’t see hide nor tail of his best friend until Jared shows up again at gate 13 of YVR. Secretly, he wonders if that’s the real reason Sandy finally up and gave Jared the kiss-off, until he remembers the whole thing with Jonathon--  
  
_“God…you’re fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?”_  
  
\--and yeah, maybe there was more to it than that.  
  
Whatever’s written on his face, Jared seems to find something suspicious about it, because suddenly he’s staring straight at Jensen. Frowning a little, teeth glowing under the bar’s dim lamplight. “Or I could stick around…yeah?”  
  
Jensen has an immediate, disturbing thought of those lips, _that mouth_ , wide and wrapped around some big dick--ah, hell who’s he kidding?--and goes warm all over. Shakes his head. “N-No. You should definitely go.”  
  
There’s a moment’s pause after his hesitant response, and then Tom’s looking at them both like they’re insane. Jensen refuses to meet Jared’s eyes while Tom tosses back a shot and mumbles, “Well, that wasn’t a little _weird_ or anything.”  
  
“Jensen,” Jared’s saying, too low for Tom to hear, and the thread of worry, of fucking friendly concern, is too much for Jensen to handle right about now. He backs away from Jared’s outstretched hand, coming to his feet with a smile that’s as fake as the one plastered across the face of that fucking nightmarish clown from the second episode of the season.  
  
“Tired.” He forces a yawn and stretches both arms high over his head. “Gonna head home, m’self.” With a nod toward them both, he adds, “See you when I see you.”  
  
“I’m leaving tomorrow night,” Jared calls after him, a troubled reminder, and Jensen waves it off and grabs his jacket.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Thing is, Jensen’s a lying liar who lies.   
  
He’d screw Jared, sure, no questions asked, if he didn’t think Jared would go and fucking fall in love or something equally ridiculous in return. Because that’s just how his best friend is. Roses and hearts and moonlight, all the way, and Jensen’s more the condoms and sleazy hotel trysts and “don’t call me, I’ll call you” school of thought when it comes to sex.  
  
If it could just be about mouths, tongues, getting off, then Jensen…well, he’d’ve had something else entirely in mind when Jared dropped his little gay-bomb the day before. Maybe _he_ would’ve been the one to shove _Jared_ up against the trailer wall, tug those baggy jeans down Jared’s hips and suck. Then keep right on until all that was left of that molasses Texas drawl was a filthy curse or two.  
  
Because Jared’s hot, no two ways about it. And yeah, Jensen’s given it a thought. Or three. Or four. But now Jared’s gone and completely fucked things up by not even wanting Jensen in the first place, and Jensen…just isn’t sure how to handle that.  
  
If Jared was straight, he could blow it off, easy. But Jared’s not straight, not even trying to pretend anymore, and by all rights he should be wanting a piece of the infamous Ackles ass right about now, _begging_ for it, even. Was that really so much to ask?  
  
Eh. Not that he’s going to fuck Jared anyway.  
  
That decisive thought’s still lingering on his mind when his sheets are ripped back. Cool air sweeps across body parts already good and awake, and he lets out an undignified howl before registering the familiar grin above him. “Fucking son of a bitch!”  
  
“Mornin’!” Jared’s all but bouncing on the bed as Jensen rolls to the other end, tries to burrow under a full-length body pillow. It doesn't help. He can still hear Jared’s brand of particularly evil laughter--followed by a friendly slap to the ass--and wonders what he _ever_ thought was cute about his fucking co-star. “Get up, princess. We’re spending the day together!”  
  
“I thought you were gone already.” Happy, happy, happy…incessantly happy. Too damn excited, too damn _much_. Jared in a nutshell, and Jensen’s jaw twitches. “Gimme my blankets back, bitch.”  
  
A short-winded tug-of-war ensues, but Jared’s got pounds on his side, not to mention full cognizance of the situation. Jensen’s vision is still half-blurred from sleep, and his morning wood’s a definite handicap. He gives in around the time Jared’s leaning over him, bony knee pressed to the small of Jensen’s back. Unable to bite back a helpless groan, Jensen closes his eyes as his dick grinds against the mattress.  
  
Jared goes still, breathing hard against Jensen’s neck. Heartbeat like a drumline marching across his brain, Jensen swallows back sixteen different cracks and settles for a lazy, “Now Jared, y’said I wasn’t your type.”  
  
And just that easily, Jared’s chuckling again. He loosens his hold, rolling over to let Jensen sit up and meet his wide, toothy grin. “Such a smug prick.” Fond amusement colors Jared’s features and Jensen doesn’t argue the point. Mostly because he knows it’s true.  
  
“Well, now that you’re up…” Jared snorts as he realizes the double entendre. He lies back against Jensen’s bed, all sprawling long limbs and floppy hair, watching while Jensen stumbles toward the dresser and starts rummaging around for a clean shirt. “Wear the green one.”  
  
Jensen pauses, stares, and Jared shrugs his shoulders, already distracted by something else. Jensen turns back to the shirt, voice a low rumble. “Huh. The new and improved Gay Jared dispenses fashion advice. What other wonders await?”   
  
“Jackass! I’ve always had fashion sense.”  
  
“Yeah, _non_ sense.” But Jensen pulls the shirt over his head anyway, hiding the grin threatening to break free. This? He can handle. Still…he turns around, leans against the dresser with his best wide-eyed and pouty-lipped look of destruction. “Can’t we just hang out over here? Key words being _hang over_.” He pulls a face, rubs at temples still pounding from the effects of too much alcohol and not enough sleep.  
  
Jared’s dimples dig down deep in his cheeks, eyes lighting up with unholy glee. “Sorry. The new and improved Gay Jared wants to go out, see the sights. You know, the ones we’ve never bothered with because we live like vampires?”  
  
“Hey, I like it that vay,” Jensen drawls in exaggerated Bela Lugosi, eyebrows and fingers wiggling. Jared just rolls his eyes, and Jensen gives in without another thought. “All right, all right. Just…we’re not jumping out of any planes on an empty stomach. I’m putting my foot down.”  
  
And if his dick responds when Jared smiles, well, Jensen won’t have to worry about it after tomorrow, anyway.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Come to think of it, Jensen actually hates Jared. A lot.   
  
Hates his stupid floppy hair that won’t stay down, no matter how much fucking gel Jeannie tries to use. Hates his dumb jokes, pranks, hates his stupid pink shirts and big feet.   
  
“Jesus, Jensen. You look like shit.”  
  
Hates Jared’s tendency to state the fucking obvious.  
  
“M’fine,” Jensen croaks out, vision blurry and more than a little green around the edges. The stupid wristband he bought from a vendor before they got on the ferry’s obviously a piece of crap, but it’s probably what Jensen deserves for putting any stock in that acupressure bullshit and not just taking a damned Dramamine to begin with.  
  
The boat tips to the side, probably just a normal dip-and-roll, but Jensen’s fingers clench on the railing and he swallows down bile and shame. A second later, Jared’s there, rubbing his back, speaking in low, soothing tones.  
  
“God, Jen, I didn’t know…you never said anything.”   
  
It’s impossible to miss the worry coloring Jared’s voice. _Ah, hell…fine, his jokes aren’t **that** dumb._ Jensen leans back into those big hands, even if there are people around that might recognize them. Although, according to Jared, it’s not likely this early in the morning. Apparently their fanbase doesn’t run to the grandmothers and small children populating the nine AM harbor cruise crowd.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Jared’s saying when he finally tunes back in, and somehow the rumbly voice does more to steady Jensen’s nerves than the stupid wristband or pills or anything else. “Jen, if you can try…just look out at something. The horizon, I hear that’s supposed to help, right?”  
  
“You askin’ me or tellin’ me?” The joke falls flat, Jensen’s humor only a ghostly shade of normal. The boat rocks again, his stomach rolls with it, and that’s just all she fucking wrote.  
  
He vaguely hears a little girl saying, “Ew! Mommy, he’s throwing up!” before a cold sweat breaks out over his skin and he’s kneeling on the fiberglass bottom, hands wrapped around his middle and vomit stinging his nostrils.  
  
Jared calls in brisk tones for help, and then there’s the pounding of heels like a fucking death march across Jensen’s skull. Before he can slump down, pass out like he very much _wants_ to do, he’s being pulled to his feet and manuevered god only knows where.  
  
“Here ya go, Jen.” It’s Jared again, giving Sam’s worried puppy routine more than its due justice. A glass of something cold is pressed up against his mouth, and he takes a tentative sip, feels blessed water slide down his throat. “There now, that’s right, drink it all up for me.”  
  
Jensen pulls a face, but he takes another swallow. “Christ. Why don’t you just call me sweetheart an’ get it over with, Jaredina?”  
  
“He always this crabby?” an amused voice asks, and Jared snorts.  
  
“You oughta see him when you tell him you ate the last gummy bear.”  
  
_That’s it. Fuck you and your stupid fucking knock-knock jokes, Padalecki._  
  
“I hate you.” Which, really, would probably sound way more effective if he weren’t ninety-nine percent sure it was Jared’s thigh he was currently using as a pillow.  
  
There’s footsteps again, fading this time, and then Jared sighs. “I really am sorry, Jensen. I wouldn’t have…why didn’t you _tell_ me you get seasick?”  
  
Jensen sits up, fights back another dizzying wave of nausea. “S’no big deal.” Faking a smile that doesn’t fool Jared for a minute, he looks down and picks at the worthless band around his wrist. “Besides, this stupid thing was supposed to work.”  
  
Long fingers push his out of the way, and then Jared’s bent over his arm, practically sitting in his lap. “You wearing it tight enough?” Jensen stares down, dumbly, at the head of dark hair. Fingers itching to touch.  
  
“Uh.” What the hell were they even talking about anymore? “Yeah?”  
  
Jared looks up, warm hazel gaze freezing Jensen in place. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me?”  
  
Really, really pink. That’s all Jensen can concentrate on, and he wonders why he never really noticed that about Jared’s mouth before. Course, he’s thought plenty _about_ Jared’s mouth…but always in this abstract, would-be-nice-if-I-could kind of way, and never with any real motivation behind it.  
  
Suddenly, there’s worse things to consider than throwing up in front of a boatful of strangers.  
  
Seeing the shore off in the near distance, he wipes the back of his mouth and winces at the acidic taste lingering on his tongue. “Can we just get the hell outta here?”  
  
Jared hedges. “Well, I did kinda pay for the lunch buffet…”  
  
Jensen’s eyes narrow. Jared laughs uneasily, stands up and offers Jensen a hand.  
  
“Jesus, gonna give me nightmares for a week with that shit. C’mon, Up-Chuck. We’re leaving.”  
  
Jensen groans a bit at the joke. “So lame, dude.”  
  
“Sorry. Ralph, it is.”  
  
Jensen shoves him into a wall when he passes by, and immediately feels much better.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
They wind up settling for the Cappuchino Lounge at the Vancouver Lookout, given the fact that Jensen’s still too queasy to eat much and Jared’s too nice to stuff his own face in front of his sick friend.  
  
“Not afraid of heights, are you?” Jared teases, and Jensen flips him the middle finger while staring out across the deck at the Vancouver skyline.  
  
“How come we never did any of this shit when we first got here?” Jensen’s not even thinking about the fact that he’s all but validating Jared’s delusions that they should “get out more!” Or “experience everything the city has to offer!”--like some kind of deranged tourist pamphlet.  
  
Jared just smiles a little, shrugs his shoulders. “We were busy, I guess.”  
  
Just like that, it all comes crashing down. “Yeah.” Jensen musters up a grin of his own, reaches for his mug. “Guess that’s over for awhile, huh.”  
  
They’ll be back. He knows it, Jared knows it, Eric and Kim know it…hell, the feisty new PA from Prince Edward Island fucking knows it. A few weeks from now Sam and Dean’ll be knee-deep in some new adventure and Jensen’ll be wondering--again--when he can find the nearest place to drop down dead.  
  
“It won’t be so bad.” Jared shrugs, and Jensen knows his friend’s thinking the same unspoken thing: they’re gonna miss that damn shit. “God knows my mama’ll put me to work, soon as I get home.”  
  
“Yeah, about that.” Jensen leans back in his chair. “What the hell, man? I dig your work ethic and all, but take a fucking _break_ when it’s handed to you on a silver platter, you know?”  
  
Jared’s brows furrow. “I take breaks.”  
  
“You don’t even know what the word means.”  
  
“Not all of us can lay around on our asses and look this pretty.” Jared kisses his own bicep, batting his lashes. Jensen flicks a peanut at him, and Jared laughs. “Seriously Jen, what’re you even gonna do?”  
  
Folding his arms across his belly, legs spread wide, Jensen lets out a contented sigh. “Absolutely nothing, Big Jay. As much as possible.”  
  
“Uh-huh. Well, just…don’t be a fool, wrap your tool.”  
  
Jensen blinks. “Come again?”  
  
“Please, I’m tryin’ to eat.” Jared pops a french fry in his mouth and looks back at Jensen innocently.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“Well?” Jared’s beaming from ear to ear, and Jensen can only shake his head and try not to laugh.  
  
“I throw my guts up on the ferry, and so you decide to bring us to an aquarium.”  
  
Jared’s smile gets bigger, as if the demented logic actually makes _sense_ , which to Jared…it probably does. “Exactly! If you can’t go to the ocean, I’ll bring the ocean to you. Safely, from behind thick plated-glass, because that’s just the kind of friend I am. No need to thank me.”  
  
“No need to worry.” But Jensen’s more amused than he wants to admit, especially when Jared comes to a grinding halt in front of the main tank attraction, eyes wide and fixed on the Belugas like he’s never seen a damn whale before. Which, come to think of it.  
  
_You can take the boy out of San Antone…_  
  
“What the hell is it? It’s fucking gigantic.” There’s nothing to disguise the awe in Jared’s voice, and Jensen bends down, pretends to study the plaque on the side of the aquarium wall.  
  
“Let’s see…oh, yeah. Here it is.” He trails a finger along the words, mischief coloring his voice when he says, “The Padalecki Whaleshark. Lives on a steady diet of cheeseburgers, sugar, Diet Coke and…plankton. Oh yeah, total freak of nature. No doubt.”  
  
Jared blinks, then reaches over and slugs Jensen on the shoulder. Jensen’s laughter breaks free, and then Jared joins in. The sound of their amusement draws the attention of several passers-by, and when a few of them stop and double-take, Jensen’s smile fades a bit. He takes Jared by the shirtsleeve and tugs him back and behind the exhibit on Japanese spider crabs.  
  
“What the…” Jared narrows his eyes, huffs out a breath. “See someone you know?”  
  
“Someone who knows _us_.” Jensen doesn’t even care if he sounds like the antisocial asshole actor he’s sometimes purported to be. He’s not, not really, but he just…he’s not really a big fan of, well, _fans_ so much. He deals with them mostly because he _has_ to, but push come to shove…he’d rather _not_ hear about how wearing a leather jacket, tight jeans, and snarking at his onscreen little brother “drastically changed” someone’s friggin’ life.  
  
Jared’s looking over his shoulder, and apparently catches sight of the group in question because realization dawns bright across his features. When he looks back at Jensen, those hooded eyes are full of amusement and not a little resignation. “Wuss,” is all he says, and Jensen shoves him back a full step, ignoring the soft laughter.  
  
“Seriously, they look about thirteen years old.” Jared falls into step beside Jensen as they make their way through the darkened corridor.  
  
“ _Seriously_ , drop it.”  
  
Like that warning’s ever meant a damn thing to Jared. “Oh, so fans are okay to screw around with, but…you can’t stop and sign a few measley autographs, Jensen?”  
  
At that, the accusation in Jared’s normally affectionate tone, Jensen stops cold. Turns around to find his friend staring down at him with blatant disappointment in his eyes, and it’s so fucking _ridiculous_. Like _Jared_ has any right to say a damn thing about the fact that Jensen maybe sometimes on occasion hooks up with the stray guest star or cute fangirl-or-boy when the mood strikes him. After all, Jared fucked around with Jonathon, possibly got his ass _dumped_ because of it, and it’s just completely not…even the same thing at all.   
  
Fucking hell.  
  
“Look, I’m not trying to patronize you or whatever.” A big hand drops onto his shoulder, squeezing just a little, and Jensen moves away. There’s a heavy sigh behind him. “Live your life, man. I just. Sometimes you seem kinda unhappy, Jen. You know that?”  
  
“We can’t all shoot sunshine and moonbeams out of our asses, Padalecki, so why don’t you just back the fuck off?”   
  
Jensen can all but fucking _hear_ his words take a bite out of Jared. He’s sorry as soon as he says it, and not just because there’s a thread of truth to Jared’s words that he doesn’t want to pull, follow and see where it goes. But because what he said, well, that’s what he _loves_ about Jared. He wouldn’t have the goofy dork any other way, and now he can feel those fucking eyes boring into his skull, can picture the hurt darkening brown and green to black.  
  
He braces himself for the tirade Jared’s completely within rights to give him, but instead, his friend just forces another smile and shakes his head. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”  
  
“Jared,” Jensen starts helplessly. But Jared’s already backing away, not meeting Jensen’s eyes, and an uncomfortable ache takes up residence in his chest.  
  
After checking his watch, Jared makes a too-casual sound in the back of his throat that Jensen doesn’t buy for a second. “Damn, gotta flight to catch. Take care, Jen. I’ll see you in May.”   
  
The words are right, the tone’s bright enough. But the strained smile plastered across those familiar features is so fucking _wrong_ that Jensen’s rooted to the spot. He can’t think of a damn thing to say to make it better.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
First thing Jensen discovered upon finding out he’d just as soon suck a dick as eat a pussy was that, gay bars and straight bars? Ain’t a damn difference between them.   
  
Okay, sure, some of the choices in music differentiate, and the clientele can get a bit one-sided. But after mainlining all five seasons of _Queer as Folk_ during a month of self-awakening, he’d expected more…well, just _more_. More debauchery, more naked boys dancing in cages over the bar. More Brian Kinneys in illustrous backrooms, sucking and fucking every person lucky enough to walk by.  
  
“Want another, sugar?”  
  
He doesn’t bother to glance at the sympathetic queen behind the counter, just lifts his glass and draws his shoulders up higher around him as some tired dance track fills the air.   
  
It doesn’t help that his phone’s been ringing nonstop since he left the aquarium, and he knows if he checked his voicemail his ears would be ringing with insults and queries as to why he’d missed Jared’s grand departure from the airport.   
  
After the third time Mike’s name flashes across the screen, he turns the damn thing off and slams it down on the bar as hard as he’d like to do to the jackass in question. Can’t they all just leave him fucking alone? He gets it. He does. They’re all friends, sure, but _Jared’s_ the one you don’t screw with and expect to make it out alive.  
  
Hell, Jensen should know, being plenty guilty of it himself. He thinks back to how he treated Sandy those last few times he saw her, and something thick and tasting of bitter shame lodges in his throat.  
  
He wishes he could blame Jared. Thing is, Jared’s so damn oblivious he doesn’t even know about the subterfuge and sniping going on under his nose on his behalf. And Jensen can understand the need to protect, nurture, can appreciate it even, because even now Jared’s still the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.  
  
He’s just sick of thinking about it.  
  
Which is probably why he doesn’t bother to stop the inevitable from happening when he catches sight of blue eyes and dark hair across the room. Downs his drink, wincing a bit as the whiskey burns his throat, and starts on unsteady legs down the hall with the excuse of grabbing his coat.  
  
It’s no time at all before he’s got his hands flat against the wall, pants around his ankles, and dick bruising the handsome stranger’s throat. And _yeaaah_ , this is better. No thinking, no doubt and recriminations, just sucking and fucking and--  
  
_“God…you’re fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?”_  
  
\--he doesn’t ever have to worry that this’ll wind up being more than it is.  
  
  
**Take One.**  
  
  
His first thought on waking is, _ouch_ , quickly followed by the always frightening, _oh, what the hell did I do last night?_  
  
When his comforter goes flying across the room, Jensen barely has time to process the strangely familiar turn of events before he’s assaulted with six-feet-four-inches of perky Padalecki. There’s no mistaking that laugh, that personality, that pain in Jensen’s ass no other overly exuberant goofball can recreate.  
  
“Mornin’!” Jared bounces once, twice, on the bed and slaps Jensen’s ass. Jensen sucks in a breath, bucks his hips and thinks, _Say what?_ “Get up, princess. We’re spending the day together!”  
  
Jensen stares up at Jared’s admittedly deranged grin, eyes unfocused and pulse still hammering. “What the…Jared, I fucking thought you left!”  
  
He’s not willing to examine too closely the relief that curls through his body, leaving him dizzy, shaken. Before he can string together any more questions, Jared’s jerking the blankets the rest of the way off the bed, and Jensen finds himself flat-out and face-down against the mattress. Again.   
  
Jared’s babbling something over his head--“Such a lazy ass”--gigantic body practically smothering Jensen into the sheets, while Jensen’s still trying to put two and two together. He manages a muffled, “Thought I, uh, still wasn’t your type, Jay.”  
  
Jared freezes, and then he’s laughing and Jensen can breathe again. “Such a smug prick!” Looking for all the world like he wants to roll back over and ruffle Jensen’s goddamned hair or something.  
  
_What the fucking hell?_  
  
While Jensen’s left gaping, Jared stretches out, nibbling absently on his bottom lip and nudging Jensen with his toe. “Hey, since you’re already up…” He trails off with a winning grin, and Jensen rubs his eyes.  
  
“Okay, seriously. Ha-ha, whatever, what are you _doing here?_ ”  
  
Jared stares at him like _he’s_ the one who’s lost his ever-loving mind, and sits up on his elbows. “Clean your ears out, boy. I said we’re goin’ out! I’m leaving tonight, and you’re gonna spend time with your best friend before partying your ass off and forgetting all about me.”  
  
Jensen’s barely following the thread of conversation, just lets Jared pull him up and out of bed and toward the dresser. He’s still stuck on, “Say _what?_ ”  
  
Elbows-deep now in Jensen’s goddamn underwear drawer, Jared pulls out a pair of soft-washed cotton boxers and tosses them at Jensen’s head. “Oh! And wear that green shirt.” A playful wiggle of brows. “Daddy likes.”  
  
“Is this some kind of fucking joke?” Jensen’s fingers clench in cotton, teeth grinding so hard he can just feel his fillings turning to dust. Not pausing at Jared’s incredulous expression, he stalks toward his friend and shoves him back, away from his underwear, his clothes, his goddamn dresser that Jared should be nowhere near right now because, oh yeah, he’s supposed to be in goddamn San Antonio.  
  
“Okaaay, yeah, you _definitely_ need to get out, man,” Jared decides, nodding a little to himself. Then, “I’m not surprised. We live like a couple of--”  
  
“Vampires,” Jensen finishes in tandem, watching Jared’s eyes widen a bit. “Though I’d just go with hermits, myself.”  
  
“Well, at least you agree.” White teeth flash, nearly blinding, and Jensen’s confusion leaps right over the ledge into irritation.   
  
“What the hell is going on here? Why are you…why is this all happening _again?_ Did Mike put you up to this shit?”  
  
“Whoa, what’s your problem, Jen?” Jared laughs a little, hands held up high in surrender. “Look, if you don’t wanna hang out…fine. I’ll just. I’ll just go and I’ll call you tomorrow. No need to freak out, jesus.”  
  
“And what if there _is_ no tomorrow?” Jensen’s bordering on hysterical, unable to stop even when Jared backs up. Stares at him like he’s never even _seen_ Jensen before. “There wasn’t one today!”  
  
For a split-second, he genuinely thinks Jared’s gonna run out of the room screaming. Sure looks like it, anyway, and Jensen can’t really blame him for it. Hell, if the tables were turned, Jensen would’ve already been halfway back to the Westin Grande by now. He sure as fuck wouldn’t have stopped to hear out whatever weird explanation Jared managed to pull out of his ass.  
  
But Jared’s a much better co-star, friend, human being than Jensen. After only an initial beat of worried silence, he just steps right up and places the back of his hand to Jensen’s forehead. “You feelin’ okay, Jen?” All worried and contrite, like it might somehow be _his_ fault that Jensen’s lost his fucking grip on reality.  
  
He slaps Jared’s hand away, turning around and feeling toward the bathroom. “Need some water,” he croaks, trying to separate everything in his mind. The minute he splashes cold water against his cheeks, takes a look at himself in the mirror, he comes to a pretty disturbing realization.  
  
“What happened last night?” He stalks out of the bathroom, ignoring the way Jared jumps up from the bed and stands like he’s waiting for execution or some such shit.  
  
“Um.” Jared bites his lip, tongue touching the corner of his mouth and almost-- _almost_ \--distracting Jensen from the freak-out at hand. “Well, we finished shooting. I went home, called my parents, took a bath for my back--oh, I tried out that new apricot scrub Sandy gave me before, well, you know--”  
  
Jensen stares at him. “Honestly, how is anyone _surprised_ you’re queer?”  
  
“Hey!” But Jared doesn’t sound the least bit offended, just smiles and all but scuffs the floor with his toe. Jensen feels like stabbing himself between the eyes, or maybe just stabbing Jared. With his dick.   
  
The gigantic, adorable fuckwad.   
  
“Then we met up at that crap-ass bar on UBC Michael likes…you know, the one Kristin got food poisoning at back on Erica’s birthday? God, I swear sometimes I think Mike’s really just tryin’ to kill us all--”  
  
“Jared!” Jensen’s voice cracks a little, and Jared blinks. “Just…focus. _Please._ ”  
  
Jared huffs out a breath, spreads his arms wide. “That’s all, Jen. We went out drinkin’ for awhile, then you ran out of the place like a bat outta hell and I decided to come see you this morning before I left.”  
  
Everything’s right, down to the last attention-deficit detail. Except…  
  
“So, we never…we never went to the aquarium?” Jensen despises the hopeful note in his question.  
  
Jared’s laugh isn’t the least bit reassuring. “How’d you…damn it, I was gonna surprise you!”  
  
“What about the harbor cruise?”  
  
Mouth still hanging open, Jared shakes his head. “Okay, now you’re freaking me out a little.”  
  
Jensen laughs darkly, sits down on the bed and drops his head in his hands. “Freaking _him_ out, he says.”   
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“I really am sorry, Jensen. I wouldn’t have…why didn’t you _tell_ me you get seasick?”  
  
Jensen groans and rests his head against his forearm, breathing heavy, not saying anything in response.  
  
“Well, look at it this way,” Jared murmurs a few minutes later, rubbing Jensen’s back as he vomits. “Least we can check this off the to-do list.”  
  
Jensen looks up, throat stinging, voice cracked. “I hate you.”  
  
“Nah, you don’t.” Jared appears to consider it thoughtfully, nibbling his bottom lip. “You know, Jen, you don’t have to pretend with me. It’s not like I’ll think less of you because you got sick, y’know? I just want you to talk to me, tell me what’s up.”  
  
Making a face, Jensen leans over the bucket again. Spits, grabs the bottle of water in Jared’s hand. “Stupid wristbands work for shit,” he mutters, taking a long sip and swishing it around in his mouth. Spits again. “This is one fucked up dream.”  
  
Because that’s what it has to be. Some part of his subconscious that’s not willing to let go of Jared quite yet, that still hasn’t figured out that this isn’t the _end_. That there’ll be plenty more times for Jensen to see his best friend, to apologize for being a complete asshole and make things better between them.  
  
There has to be.  
  
Coming to that realization doesn’t really make things seem any easier to handle. Shrugging off Jared’s heavy hands, he comes to shaky feet and swallows down the surge of bile threatening to bubble up again as the boat rocks. He can feel Jared watching him, a bit uncertainly, and flashes his friend a queasy smile.  
  
“Let’s get the hell outta here.”  
  
Jared bites his lip, something twinkling behind brown-green. “Well, I did kinda pay for the buffet…”  
  
Jensen stares. _Yeah, just as lame the second time around._  
  
Jared finally laughs, standing up and taking hold of Jensen’s elbow. “Jesus, gonna give me nightmares for a week with that shit. C’mon, Up-Chuck. We’re leaving.”  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
“My bad…Ralph,” Jared responds cheerfully.  
  
Jensen bites his tongue, lets Jared drag him toward the front deck, ready to throw himself overboard and call it a day.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Jared pops another fry into his mouth, and Jensen fiddles with a napkin. Things are plenty awkward enough, on his end anyway, and he’s just not really sure where the hell this dream’s going.  
  
Okay, that’s a lie. He knows pretty much exactly where it’s going, he just isn’t really sure how to _stop_ it. It’s like watching a trainwreck, he can see and hear everything just fine, can control his own responses, but it all seems to inevitably occur the same way regardless.  
  
Even now, Jared’s watching him. Head tilted to the side, that same happy curve of lips. Like nothing in the world could ever upset him, when Jensen goddamn well knows differently.  
  
He can still see Jared’s crestfallen expression, head hanging as he turned to walk away and Jensen just stood there, silent like the fucking jackass he secretly sometimes suspects himself to be. Left behind with the fucking dolphins and sea otters.  
  
“Not afraid of heights, are you?” Jared teases, and Jensen blinks. Looks up, meets Jared’s gaze.  
  
Before he can think better of it, he’s squeezing his hand into a fist against his thigh. “How come we never did any of this shit when we had the chance?”   
  
Jared smiles, a bit regretfully, and Jensen hears the words echoed in his head. “We were just busy, I guess. Had better stuff to do.”  
  
It’s bubbling up in his throat, some long-hidden fear he’s never expressed because he’s supposed to be the confident one. The older one, the one that’s got all the answers. For Jared, anyway, and it’s a little disheartening to finally give in and admit he has _no fucking clue._  
  
“What if we never have the chance again?” He wants to take it back, especially when Jared’s eyes flicker to his, his friend’s own insecurity shaping his features, darkening his gaze. A cold fist tightens in his belly, but he can’t shut the fuck up now. “What if we gave it our best shot, but…this is it. The end. Pack it up boys, take care and good luck.”  
  
“Hey.” Jared sounds a bit alarmed. Jensen can’t blame him…he feels like he’s choking, his collar’s too tight and, goddamn, why’s it so fucking hot in here? “It’s just a break, Jensen. We’re on a break, we’ll be back.”  
  
A break. “You don’t even know what the word means,” he mumbles, but this time the words mean something altogether different.  
  
Jared’s brow furrows. “I take breaks.” Then the fog clears, the sun comes back out, and he’s grinning and sitting back. “I just like to keep busy, is all. Not all of us can sit on our lazy asses and look as pretty as you.”  
  
Jensen’s head lifts. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. “Pretty, huh?” His tone is a bit strangled, but he can’t help it.  
  
Jared rolls his eyes, reaching out for a fry. “Like it’s news to you.” Crunch, swallow, and then he’s shaking his head in fond amusement. “Everyone knows you’re pretty, fucker. Your cross to bear or whatever.”  
  
“Never knew _you_ thought so.” He’s watching Jared carefully now, something hot and interesting driving his pulse along a faster path.   
  
“Said you weren’t my type, Jen. Never said I was blind.”   
  
Jensen stares back at him until Jared finally clears his throat and plucks another french-fry from his plate.   
  
It’s never been any secret that Jensen likes to fool around with pretty much whomever’s willing. Sure, he has standards and all, but sometimes they get forsaken in favor of whatever crazy, kinky shit seems better at the time.  
  
Sometimes he forgets Jared knows that about him, and it’s not exactly _shame_ that washes over him, but it’s not really a far thing from it, either. And that’s just great. It’s been all of a day-- _but who’s counting?_ \--since Jared finally came out and admitted he liked dick, and now Jensen’s questioning every damn thing about himself. To the point of having weird dreams and déjà vu, and really, why had this all seemed so much easier when Jared liked girls?  
  
Jesus.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“This is it?”  
  
Jensen looks over, catches Jared’s bemused expression and tries to hide a smirk. Failing somewhat spectacularly, he brushes past his friend to take a seat at the bar. “What were you expecting, Junior?” He signals for a drink, spins in his chair to look out over the crowd.  
  
Jared’s still standing there, taking in his surroundings with wide eyes edged with what Jensen wants to believe is disappointment, but then that’d mean admitting that Jared was expecting the same kind of debauchery Jensen had and, well. That’s just diving into parts of Jared’s psyche that have no business in some fucked-up alternate reality of whatever the hell had happened to Jensen yesterday. Today. Whatever.  
  
“I just…” Jared chews on his lip, backing toward Jensen without taking his eyes off the dance floor. “I dunno. This isn’t much like _Queer as Folk._ ”  
  
Jensen barks out a laugh that has Jared blinking. He looks over and seems somewhat surprised to even see Jensen _there._ Tilting his head, Jared slides into the next seat and accepts the shot the tired bartender slips him with only a minimal blush when the guy winks back.   
  
“Welcome to the rest of your homosexual life.” Jensen salutes the room with his own glass, then tosses it back with a wince. “Gotta learn to make your own fun, Jared. It doesn’t just plop itself down in your lap now that you’ve decided you like a little cock action.”  
  
“Looks like that guy over there wouldn’t mind plopping down in _your_ lap.” Jared nods toward one of the dark corners across the club, and Jensen sits up. Takes note of the pretty brunet he’d gotten somewhat familiar with the other night.   
  
“Heh, well.” He snaps for another shot, eyes rolling back as he avoids Jared’s gaze.   
  
“You know him?” Jared sounds more then a little curious, and goddamn…this is one of many times Jensen resents the fact that they know each other so damn well.  
  
He contemplates making something up, come out smelling like roses. Then figures, _fuck it. My dream, after all._ “I let him suck my dick once.”  
  
“ _Let_ him?” Jared laughs, shaking his head. “How kind of you, man. How _giving._ ”  
  
Jensen’s lips curve at the memory, eyes dark and trained on the kid as he leans up against the wall like an invitation. “He thought so.”  
  
“You like him?”  
  
Jensen starts at that, eyes snapping to Jared’s smiling features and back to his glass in a second’s time. Laughing uncomfortably, he shifts in his chair, feeling those dark, knowing eyes stroke him down deep inside. “Hell, Jay, I don’t even remember his name.”   
  
Jared’s quiet for almost too long, and Jensen’s already regretting whatever demon inside that’d thought it would be a better idea to skip the aquarium after all.   
  
Then, “You deserve better.” Soft, solemn, and Jensen jerks a little. Doesn’t really want to think about it, just wants to turn it into a joke. A joke, it’s always a joke.  
  
“Like what, a ring and a commitment ceremony?” he cracks, feeling more and more like his Winchester counterpart when Jared’s eyes droop a bit. Fall away from him and then coming back blazing.  
  
“Maybe. If that’s what it takes. What’s wrong with it?”  
  
“God, you really are gay.”  
  
Jared sits back, crosses his arms against his chest, and Jensen is absoutely _not_ thinking of the way those muscles bunch and shift and bulge at the seams of blue cotton. “You keep saying that. But so are you.”  
  
“Nah, I’ll take it any way I can get it. Just gotta be discreet, is all.” His grin is sharp, fierce, and dares Jared or any-fucking-body else to disagree or judge.  
  
Jared snorts softly, leans so close that Jensen goes still. Warm breath brushes his ear, sweetened by mint and butterscotch Schnapps, and then Jared’s fingers are squeezing his shoulder tight and Jensen can’t breathe. “You deserve better. And I gotta plane to catch.”  
  
Jensen watches him back away, confusion, resentment thick and bitter on his tongue. “Yeah well, better’s got a _type_ , and it ain’t me,” he mutters to no one at all, and turns his back on Jared’s departing figure. Orders another drink, and tries not to let the realization bug him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** there moves a thread that has no end.  
**Author:** [ ](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/profile)[**keepaofthecheez**](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/)  
**Pairing:** Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles (minor Jensen/OMC’s, Jensen/OFC’s)  
**Rating/Warnings:** NC-17 | m/m slash, real person fiction, abuse of schmoop  
**Word Count:** 20,209 words.  
**Summary:** Sometimes you get a second chance to see what’s right in front of you.   
**Notes:** See end of fic. Written for [ ](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/profile)[**spn_j2_bigbang**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/).  
  
  
  
 

  
  
**There moves a thread that has no end: Part 2  
By keepaofthecheez.**

  
  
  
**Take Two.**  
  
  
Well, so it wasn’t a dream.  
  
Jensen figures that out about two seconds after waking up, heart pounding when Jared tackles him to the bed-- _“Get up, princess. We’re spending the day together!”_  
  
Rather understandably in his own humble opinion, he freaks the fuck out. Orders his confused friend out and spends the rest of the morning huddled under his blankets, ignoring the continuously ringing phone and thumping knocks, usually accompanied by either Mike, or Tom, or _both_ screaming at him from behind the door about what an insensitive freak he is.  
  
“This isn’t happening.” Jensen can say it as many times as he wants, but every time he pops his head out, or goes to take a piss, he catches sight of the goofy Star Wars calendar Jared tacked up next to the window. Days crossed off, bright red circle around the Friday Jared’s going home.  
  
Today.  
  
_Again._  
  
He’s crossed off that little square stormtrooper three times now, and it hasn’t changed a damn thing. He’s never really been one to experience _déjà vu_ anyway, but he’s also pretty damn sure this is more than just that.   
  
The likely explanation was one Jensen wasn’t really sure he was ready to admit to himself. When the phone rings again, Jared’s name flashing in tandem with the spooky theme from _Supernatural_ , he breathes deep. Thinks back on the conversation that took place back when Jared up and decided they should show their support of the show through their ringtones.   
  
_“It’s this or a tattoo of Sam’s face on your ass, man. You decide.”_  
  
“Jared,” he says now, voice shaky and not a little afraid. He feels Jared’s concern across the line, though his friend’s not speaking. “I need your help.”  
  
“I’ll be right there.”  
  
And Jared always will be, and maybe that’s even scarier than all the rest of it put together.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“Well, you’re in perfect physical health.”  
  
Jensen pinches the bridge of his nose, tries not to think about Jared standing outside in the waiting room, probably pacing back and forth like a worried parent. Yeah, maybe he should’ve told Jared what was up…but to be fair to himself, he still doesn’t have a fucking clue.   
  
Speaking of: “So then, what the hell’s wrong with me?”  
  
The doctor raises a brow at his sarcastic tone, but keeps right on smiling politely. “Stress, and lots of it. It can make us lose our cool, keep us on edge, even delude us into imagining the far-fetched as a method of coping.”  
  
Jensen makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “I’m not imagining…” He rubs his forehead and sends the bemused doctor a pained smile. “Okay, so. Is there any medication for this? Dope me up, man, because seriously. This shit’s beyond fucked up.”  
  
“I suggest resting,” the doctor returns wryly, and Jensen imagines strangling the guy where he stands. Wonders if sharing _that_ with the good doctor might get him to stop looking at Jensen like he’s fucking crazy but he’s not gonna do a damn thing about it. “Or possibly, therapy,” the doctor adds, and Jensen blinks.  
  
“So, I _am_ crazy.”  
  
“Not crazy, Mr. Ackles. It’s actually quite common to have disconcerting dreams, nightmares, during a period of emotional upheavel. Not unlike what you’re going through worrying over the possibility of your television series’ cancellation. Uprooting again, starting all over.”  
  
“Didn’t realize I’d already signed up for therapy,” Jensen snarks under his breath, then clears his throat at the knock on the door.  
  
Jared pops his head in, worried expression in place. “Jen? Everything okay?”  
  
“Peachy. Tell him, doc.” Jensen slides off of the table, rubbing his hands together, eyes catching on the lit-up X-rays decorating the wall of the exam room. His freaking brain, right there on display, and--apparently--not a damn thing wrong with it.  
  
Son of a bitch.  
  
“I’ve recommended your friend get some rest, relaxation.” The doctor shakes Jared’s proffered hand, smiling widely. “My wife’s a big fan, Mr. Padalecki.”  
  
Jensen blinks in confusion-- _sure didn’t seem to recognize **me**_ \--until he hears the words “Gilmore Girls” and Jared’s enthusiastic laughter following afterward.   
  
_Freaking figures._  
  
He’s buckling himself into the passenger seat of Jared’s silver Lexus twenty minutes later, paperwork from the doctor’s office--including the name of a “trusted” psychologist--crumpled in his lap.   
  
“Well, I guess we’re gonna miss the aquarium,” Jensen mutters to himself, knowing Jared can’t hear him over the strains of Our Lady Peace. “And the ferry ride. Not that _that’s_ gonna keep me up at night.”  
  
They pull up in front of Jensen’s hotel, and Jared turns the ignition, the engine’s smooth purr giving way to silence. Then, “I’m gonna cancel my flight.”  
  
Jensen starts, blinking from behind his sunglasses as he sits up and stares at Jared, who’s looking straight out the windshield. His expression is much too serious for Jensen's playful friend. “Huh?”  
  
It takes a second, then Jared sighs a little. Shifts behind the wheel and sends Jensen a soft smile. Shakes his head. “I can’t just…I can’t leave you like this, Jen.”  
  
Something warm rushes through Jensen’s veins, settling deep in his belly and spreading out to his toes. “Like what?” He can’t manage to hold Jared’s intense stare, begins picking at the fraying denim above the heel of his shoe.   
  
“Freaked out.” Another small sigh, more frustrated this time, and then Jared’s squeezing his shoulder with strong fingers. “C’mon, man. I know you. You can sit there and act big and bad, but you’re scared shitless about something, and I’m not gonna run off and leave you here to deal with it by yourself!”  
  
Emotion clogs Jensen’s voice, makes it gruff and heavy. “All right, _Sam._ ”  
  
Jared snorts, but it’s kinda true. There’s a lot about their characters that’s different from them, but plenty that’s the same, too. For Jared, he shares Sam’s compassion, understanding, insight. Sometimes it makes Jensen downright uncomfortable the way his friend seems to know him better than he does himself. Like they almost _are_ brothers, and this is definitely one of those times.  
  
Thing is, he can relate all too well to Dean’s selfish desire to keep Sam close, and that’s why he doesn’t say the words he should. The ones that would erase that concerned gleam from Jared’s eyes and get him on that plane to San Antonio. Instead, he just looks away and mutters, “I need a fucking drink.”  
  
“I’m coming with you,” Jared says firmly, and guns the engine again before Jensen can tell himself he’s made the wrong choice.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“How’d you find this place?” Jared yells over the thumping bass later that night, eyes glassy with drink and what Jensen thinks-- _hopes_ \--is excitement. It gives a flushed glow to Jared’s cheeks, his mouth wet from the swipe of his tongue, and Jensen groans a little and tosses back another shot.  
  
The last thing he needs is to be entertaining ideas about how freaking… _open_ Jared seems right now. Hazel green and brown gone soft, sooty lashes drooping low against his cheeks. Dimples flashing, and _god_ , but the kid’s got a mouth on him. Flashes of Jared and Jonathon--   
  
_“God…you’re fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?”_  
  
\--and then Jensen’s dick is hard. He shrugs it off, forcing a smile. “I have my ways, young padawan.”  
  
“Hilarious.” Jared’s laughing, none the wiser of Jensen’s less than honorable thoughts.   
  
“What’s so funny?” He licks his lips, imagining the sweet taste of the butterscotch flavoring Jared’s drink.  
  
“Just…” Jared waves a hand, all but pressing up alongside Jensen as he takes in the spectacle before them. Jensen sees surprise warring with interest when Jared’s gaze finally falls on a pair of guys huddled together in a dark booth. Lips and teeth and tongue, hands climbing and pulling, and Jensen shifts in his own seat. Clears his throat and snaps his fingers toward the bartender.  
  
When he glances over again, Jared’s blushing and looking anywhere but at that corner booth. Jensen’s turned on enough to light up a metropolitan center, but he can’t help but laugh at his friend’s expression. “Just…what?” He leans in closer, trying to ignore the snap of adrenaline that shoots up his spine when Jared’s eyes finally meet his own.  
  
A smile curves those shiny-pink lips, and Jensen swallows back a groan that tastes forbidden. “Shut up. I’m new to all this shit, all right?”  
  
“Point taken and understood.” Jensen can’t look away, can’t move, and suddenly they’re right up in each other’s face and it’s nothing like all the times it’s happened before. Because now Jared’s _watching_ him, heavy-lidded, lips parted, and something flashes through his eyes too quick for Jensen to get a real read on, but goddamn if he doesn’t want to.  
  
Which goes against everything he stands for, really. He’s not supposed to care about Jared _this way_ \--not supposed to want Jared to care for _him._ But he can’t deny that now, when he looks up into those tip-tilted eyes, he wants to see himself reflected back.   
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“Shut up. I’m new to this shit, all right?” Jared giggles, fucking _giggles_ , and Jensen grabs his glass to keep from pouncing on his co-star and licking the grin from his flushed features the next night.  
  
He’s pretty sure he _is_ crazy now, and if any doubt remained, it was washed away the minute he conned Jared into staying home from Texas--again--and dragged him back to the bar.   
  
Again.   
  
He sidles up close and plies Jared with drinks--hadn’t taken long to find out his choice poison--and within an hour, they’re laughing and horsing around like usual.  
  
Only this time, Jensen hooks his foot around Jared’s ankle roughly two hours into it, and his friend doesn’t move away. He’d noticed, for damn sure--Jensen could tell from the way Jared licked his mouth and smiled at Jensen from under those floppy bangs--but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, Jared got even more friendly: leaning in close to whisper ridiculous jokes into Jensen’s ear, his lips brushing the lobe and sending pleasant chills up and down Jensen’s arms. Every time he laughed, the rumbly vibrations skidded across Jensen’s spine until his fingers shook, and he resisted the urge to reach down, palm his cock until he found some sort of satisfaction from the ever-growing Padalecki Stimulation.  
  
“Sandy told me I ‘as gay before I knew,” Jared’s saying, slurring against Jensen’s neck, and Jensen forces out a slow breath. Stares down at the criss-cross of veins along Jared’s tanned foream resting on his knee, and grunts in response before Jared continues. “She ‘as a smart one, man. Pretty, too.” Jared pauses, then snorts out a regretful laugh. “Jus’ not quite my kind, I guess.”  
  
Jensen flashes his teeth when Jared looks up. “Yeah well, send her on my way. I’m open to all kinds.”  
  
Jared mock-slugs him. “S’my girl you’re talkin’ about.”  
  
“Dude, you dumped her. And now you don’t even _like_ pussy.”  
  
“Oh. Yeah.” Jared’s lips poke out, and a wave of undiluted affection rushes through Jensen. “Well, you still can’t have ‘er.”  
  
He reaches out, pats Jared gently on the back, and speaks the closest to the truth that he dares. “Aw, she’s not as pretty as you, Jay.”  
  
“Sweet-talker,” Jared purrs, head against Jensen’s shoulder, lashes batting. Jensen’s not gonna scream, goddamn it, but it’s a close thing. As it is, he all but bites down on his fist before clearing his throat, looking away from what he fears/hopes/wonders is invitation in Jared’s eyes.  
  
“Okay,” he drawls, heart thumping around the laughter in his throat. “Time to get outta here, stud. C’mon.”  
  
Jared puts up a token protest, but in the end he gives in, lets Jensen half-carry him from the club and into the back alley parking lot. “It’s dark,” he points out while Jensen’s struggling for his keys.  
  
“Uh-huh. Happens when our friend the sun goes beddy-bye.” Jensen hears the sarcasm coating his voice, but there’s underlying fondness there, too, and he knows. He’s fucking hopeless. “Come on, Jay, help me out here.”  
  
“Dude, I’m so…” Jared stops, leans against the brick wall and gives an unsteady laugh. Lifting a finger, he brings it up and taps Jensen gently on the end of the nose. “Drunk.”  
  
“Yeah, you are.” Jensen’s got both hands in Jared’s jacket, arms wrapped around his friend and easing him up further against the wall. Jared’s just giggling to himself now, eyes soft on Jensen, looking even more friendly and fucking _adorable_ \--and ridiculously sexy, if Jensen's being honest--thanks to long hours and Jim and Jack.   
  
“Gotta plane to catch,” he slurs, shoulders pressed back and hips jutting forward. Pink tongue peeks out, swiping wide mouth, and Jensen’s fingers clench on the curve of Jared’s waist. It’s obvious Jared’s forgotten his vow to stay behind, but Jensen’s more than willing--and capable--to remind him.  
  
“Don’t worry ‘bout that now,” he shushes, voice coming out dark and persuasive. “I got you, it’s okay.”  
  
Way Jared’s looking at him right now, he’s as good as in Jared’s hotel room as anything. As good as has Jared on the bed, half-dressed, miles of honey-brown, _lickable_ skin taunting and tempting to the touch. As good as has Jared _fucking hungry for it._  
  
“You’re real pretty y’self.” Jared's voice has gone quiet and dreamy, and Jensen has to bite back a grin. He’s heard the words before, plenty of times, but never in that just-short-of-amazed way like Jared’s just woken up on Christmas morning to find his heart’s desire under the tree, wrapped tight with a shiny red bow. “I think I’mma have to do somethin’ about that.”  
  
Nearly mouth-to-mouth, Jensen licks his lips. Jared groans a little, down deep in his throat, and Jensen laughs, shifts even closer. “Yeah? Like what.”  
  
Which, apparently, it’s not the best idea to provoke Jared in this state. Just that quick, Jensen finds himself dragged to the tips of his toes, big hand crushing the back of his neck. Jared’s mouth is hot, wet, tongue dragging across the back of Jensen’s teeth like he’s expecting to find…well, Jensen doesn’t fucking know. Can’t fucking _think_ , not with this bad of a boner and Jared rolling his hips and making the sexiest, most frustrated sounds Jensen’s ever heard in his entire goddamn life.  
  
“Jen.” He pulls away, breathing harshly against the side of Jensen’s cheek. “ _Jen_ , I want…”  
  
“Yeah,” Jensen mutters, reaching up and pulling that too-talkative mouth back down where it belongs. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut the fuck up, man.”  
  
They’re halfway to the Palisades, and Jensen’s already got Jared’s shirt rucked up under his arms. Pulls his friend into the shadows when a streetcar goes past, both of them giggling like horny morons, and then Jensen grabs hold of Jared’s hands. Shoves them up over his head, latches onto one of those tight little nipples and bites down when Jared nearly goes ballastic.  
  
“Fuck!” Jared cries out, and it’s not like Jensen’s never heard the guy cuss before. But knowing _why_ has his dick damn near to bursting, and he pulls back, face flushed, lips swollen, and takes a good, long look.  
  
“Shit, Jay,” is all he can say past the lump in his throat. There’s a moment of severe panic when he sees the way Jared’s looking back at him, the trust and affection shining deep in eyes he knows as well as his own.  
  
Jared's smiles is sloppy and sentimental. “Y’such a good friend, Jensen Ackles.” And before Jensen can do a damn thing to stop it, he passes out.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
This time, Jensen thinks, they’re gonna go easy on the Buttery Nipples. It pays to know your subject, and he already knows more about Jared than he’s ever wanted to: little, innocuous things, like how Jared drools when he falls asleep in his trailer, how he only eats ketchup from the portable fast-food packets. How he washes all his clothes regular, but insists on dry-cleaning and ironing his boxer-briefs. Ridiculous, harmless things that make him feel closer to his friend. Now he can add “can’t hold his liquor” to the list, and wonders why it’s taken _this_ long for him to find that out.  
  
Jared’s always been the touchy-feely sort, but with alcohol buzzing pleasantly through his veins, he takes a turn for zero-personal-space. Jensen’s dick is hard from the second Jared leans against him, nose buried down deep in the collar of Jensen’s shirt, and he shifts in his chair. Turns his head, cheek brushing the top of Jared’s hair. Rubs his nose in it and smells the shampoo Jared uses, something like lemondrops. “Wanna get out of here?”  
  
His voice is a low thrum, and Jared looks up. Eyes sparkling and heated, and he licks his lips while Jensen swallows a groan. _Too easy._ He ought to feel ashamed.  
  
“Fuck yeah,” is all Jared says, and then they’re stumbling out of the bar, hanging onto each other and giggling like drunken idiots which, Jensen supposes, they are. It’s no time at all and little effort on his part before he’s got Jared pressing him down into the mattress in his hotel room. Jared’s whining deep in his throat. Rubbing against Jensen, pupils blown and bottom lip caught between his teeth.  
  
“I feel so…” Jared sighs, lets Jensen shove his shirt up, lips closing around a nipple. Jensen purrs, reaching his arms high up over his head, and Jared sighs. “I feel fucking weird, man.”  
  
Jensen lays a lick across the tightening flesh, hips working in gentle bursts against Jared’s belly. His voice drops to a feverish pitch, thumbs circling Jared’s navel as his mouth plays across his chest. “Mmm…bad weird?”  
  
“I…” Jared sighs again, a throaty purr of breath, and pushes his hips down into Jensen’s hands. His hair falls down across gleaming eyes, rumpled from Jensen’s own fingers. “I dunno, actually. But I mean, isn’t it? Weird? It’s _us_. You.”  
  
That gives Jensen pause, a flash of frustrated anger spiraling up and throughout him as the words repeat themselves in his mind on a seemingly mocking loop. “Something wrong with me?” he forces out, chokes, refusing to acknowledge the hurt threatening to fill him up on the inside.  
  
Because maybe this was all in the plan, but Jared had gone along with the fucking thing. Several nights in a row, and yeah, they never got this far, but still. You don’t feel something one minute, then turn your back on it the next. At least Jensen didn’t, and he knew--he _knew_ , beyond a shadow of a doubt--that Jared felt…something. For _him._ Something beyond the tried and true “best friends” and “coworkers” bullshit rut they’d fallen into. Maybe his friend is confused, Jensen can understand that, but there’s no way he’s gonna let Jared pull away again. No more “not my type”.  
  
“No, Jen, it’s not you, it’s…” Jared sucks in sharply when Jensen bites down, nibbling down and across Jared’s neck, leaving behind teethmarks and bruises. He knows Jared won’t remember them in the morning, won’t be able to touch them and stroke them like Jensen would do in a reverse situation, but he figures it’s good enough for _him_ to remember. To know he put them there, for a time, and know he’ll have the chance again. And again, and again…at least, until he’s out of this funk or figures out how to break the fucking loop.  
  
“Relax.” He whispers it against toned flesh, silky-soft sounds of appreciation running down his throat as he sucks a bruise along Jared’s pulse. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Who cares what we do.”  
  
“Uh, yeah, this probably ain’t a good idea.” But Jared’s not exactly trying to push Jensen away. He’s just holding on, lying still while Jensen rubs against him, sucks harder, and all but wraps his legs around his waist.  
  
“Says who?” Jensen laughs it, hears Jared’s low chuckle in return. It takes a few seconds, but it’s there, and Jensen leans up. Takes Jared’s ear between his lips and blows hot and warm.   
  
“Fuck.” Jared shivers from head to toe. Grinds down a bit, lashes fluttering, and Jensen marks that one down for a future repeat. His dick twitches at the thought, of having Jared begging and pleading the way he’s never done with anyone else before. Jensen’s pretty sure of that, anyway.  
  
“Hey, I got you. It’s okay,” he purrs, mouth still working even as his fingers start inching their way down the back of Jared’s jeans, finding soft, warm skin and hard muscle along the way. _Oh, yeah._ He knew those long hours of training and stuntwork were paying off, but it’s a different thing to witness it beneath his mouth and hands than under the bright lights of the studio.   
  
He feels the press of Jared, hard and hot against his thigh, and lets out a little groan before reaching down. Palming the promising length and dragging an answering whimper from Jared’s throat.  
  
“No…wait. Wait.” Jared’s breathing heavy now, head twisting back and forth, and Jensen catches a note of real hesitation coloring his friend’s voice for the first time. When he looks up, meets Jared’s wide gaze, the _fear_ shining in his eyes makes him pull his hand back, lick nervous lips.   
  
“…Jay?”  
  
“Shit. Let go.” Jared jumps up and off the bed, all but flattening himself against the nearby wall. His cheeks are flushed even under the pale glow of moonlight through the window, and Jensen blinks. Jared scootches even farther away, eyes averted and throat working as he swallows and pushes his shirt back down to cover his naked chest. He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “God, Jen. What the hell was that?”  
  
“Thought you were interested,” Jensen says, staring helplessly and feeling like a heel when he glimpses the betrayal glittering out of the corner of Jared’s gaze. “I was interested.”  
  
“Because I’m gay.” Jared’s tone is flat, angry. Hurt. “I fucking trust you with that, and you turn it into a joke?” He nearly spits out the next words. “An excuse to fuck? I thought we were friends!”  
  
“Jesus, we are! Who says friends can’t fuck? I’m hot, you’re hot, your dick’s hard…what is your fucking _deal?_ ” He can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, but there’s something so fucking irritating about the fact that Jared’s pretending. Pretending that there’s not _something_ there between them, like Jensen’s out to get him or something.  
  
Well, Jensen’s not gonna _force_ the fucker…never was. Yeah, he pushed a little, tested the waters to find out if Jared was just blowing smoke up his ass with the whole “not my type” bullshit or not, and Jensen figures now he’s got his answer. It hurts to know that, to have to face facts that as much as he likes-- _ **more** than likes, godfuckingdamnit_ \--his co-star, best friend, Jared’s halfway to disgusted of even _touching_ Jensen’s dick.  
  
The realization has his voice coming out sharp, words he doesn’t necessarily mean tearing through the air. “Oh, I get it. You’re a goddamn cocktease, Padalecki. Real nice.”  
  
Jared’s mouth falls open, and when he finally laughs, nothing amusing about the sound, Jensen fights back the urge to flinch. Just stares when Jared nods to himself, still smiling that grotesque mockery of his grin, eyes chock-full of bitter disappointment that Jensen doesn’t dare examine too closely. “Well, hell. Thanks for proving my point for me, Jensen. ”  
  
It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out _that_ one, and Jensen’s brows draw together.   
  
_Fuck you._   
  
It lingers, burns on his tongue, but won’t come off. Least, not until Jared tosses off a salute and turns on his heel, storming through the door with a snappy, “See ya in a few weeks.”  
  
Something aches in the middle of Jensen’s chest, a quick, sharp burst that has him reaching up, rubbing his breast with a fist. Then, quiet, “Fuck _him._ ”  
  
Jared was hardly the only option he had. He was just the most obvious.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
**Take Three.**  
  
  
Jensen considers punching Jared right in the goddamn eye the next morning, but bites back his anger while his oblivious friend bounces on the bed-- _“We’re like fucking **vampires** , Jensen. Or hermits, but then I think of crabs and really, that’s not cool. And vampires are sexier than hermits, well, and crabs, and according to TVGuide, we’re totally sexy so--”_”  
  
“For the love of God.” Jensen finally shoves him away, sitting up and glaring at the back of Jared’s head as his friend picks himself up and off the floor. “Shut the fuck up, Jay! Can’t you see I’m sleeping?”  
  
“Can’t you see I don’t give a damn?” Jared returns cheerfully, but there’s a glint in his eyes now that Jensen recognizes as confusion. Hurt, maybe, probably, but Jensen’s really the one who doesn’t give a damn.  
  
At least, not anymore.  
  
“Go away,” he mutters, sliding back under the blankets and pulling his pillow over his head. “Or I’m calling security.” Jensen tries to resist saying it, but right now he’s feeling too damn childish. Too damn vindictive. “And your shirt’s ridiculous, dude. Take that shit off before you blind somebody.”  
  
“Such a smug prick.” But the words are snarled this time, with none of the friendliness that makes up Jared Padalecki, and Jensen bites back a wince. There’s a beat of silence, and then, “You know I’m leaving today, right?”  
  
It’s harder than he thinks, even with anger and shame and bitter disappointment coursing through his veins. “Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya.”  
  
When the sharp slam sounds seconds later, Jensen’s the one who feels slapped.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Of course, he can’t hide from Jared forever, so he swallows his feelings down the next day and agrees to accompany his friend on whatever dumbass jaunt Jared has planned now. Jensen already nixed the harbor tour, and the aquarium, and if he never eats at the fucking Lookout again, he’ll die a peaceful, happy man.  
  
His stubborness--although he prefers to think of it as self-preservation, as far as the fucking ferry is concerned--makes it a little difficult at first for Jared to come up with anything decent for them to do. Jensen feels a grim sort of satisfaction about that as he trails behind Jared in downtown Vancouver, sunglasses shading his gaze from the tourists and the locals and Jared himself.  
  
They get recognized more and more often as the months go on and _Supernatural_ ’s ratings climb higher, but somehow Jared still hasn’t given much thought to trying to hide himself from the public eye. Not that Jensen thinks the guy needs a disguise or anything crazy--they’re not Jack Nicholson, for chrissake--but still. Jared’s nothing short of a giant, and too easily recognizable because of it. So, really, a pair of dark glasses and a hat isn’t asking _too_ much, right? Especially when the alternative is--  
  
“Jensen, Jared? Kristin from E! You remember me from last year’s Upfronts, right?”  
  
Jensen sighs. He doesn’t even bother hiding a grimace when the overly bouncy gossip columnist pushes through the few people separating her from Sam and Dean Winchester, in the flesh. She beams so brightly it reflects off the tint in Jensen’s glasses.  
  
Jared’s all polite, _genuine_ smile and friendly hello, even though Jensen damn well knows his friend and co-star is no more enamored of the woman than Jensen is himself. Then again, not many in the business really are.   
  
He tunes back into the conversation just in time to hear Kristin’s flimsy explanation--“…in town for some Smallville PR, what a coincidence I ran into you both!” and--“…anything on the remaining upcoming episodes you’d like to share with your viewers?” Tinkling laughter that grates on his nerves, “C’mon, guys, throw us a bone!”  
  
He’d be more willing to if he thought the bitch actually gave a damn about the show.  
  
But Jared is Jared, so it isn’t a minute’s time before Jensen’s all but forgotten, cast back into the shadows of the Unlikely to Entertain, while the eager reporter interviews his co-star and appears to hang onto his every word.  
  
“Can’t really give anything out, sorry,” Jared’s saying now, true regret coloring his voice, and Jensen snickers into a fist. He knows better than anyone how Eric takes Jared aside time and time again, all but threatening to remove his friend’s head if Jared opens his damn mouth one more time to the wrong person. Jared’s enthusiasm for the show is something everyone appreciates, until it winds up in a spoiler blurb in _Entertainment Weekly_ , or even worse, _Watch With Kristin_.   
  
Apparently realizing she’s getting nowhere fast, Kristin finally turns toward Jensen.   
  
Jared nudges Jensen in the ribs, and Jensen hisses out a breath. Rubs the sore spot and throws a glance at his friend, catching Jared’s warning frown. _I get it, Jay, I get it. I can be nice…fucker._  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Next day, he comes prepared. Drags Jared out of the hotel and onto the same downtown street, haphazardly sipping from the bottle of Jim Beam he bought at a brewery along the way. Jared’s been giving him weird looks on and off throughout the day, but Jensen hardly cares. The loopy-warm sensation is more than a little pleasant, and soon he’s smiling at everyone who walks past. Sliding his glasses down his nose to better get a look when a co-ed swishes past, blonde hair streaming over her shoulders and flirty grin curving her lips when Jensen lifts his brows.  
  
Jared laughs, but Jensen imagines a strain to it. _Good. Serves the jackass right…he doesn’t want me, there are plenty of people who damn well do._  
  
They’re turning the corner onto Dunsmuir when Jared slows, lets out a groan. Grabs hold of Jensen’s arm and squeezes in comic alarm. “Aw, shit, don’t look now, but--”   
  
Jensen’s already rubbing his hands together in anticipation, feeling loose and uninhibited. Fucking _good._ “Kristin Veitch! In the flesh!” he calls out in an exaggerated drawl, watching with satisfaction as the reporter turns their way.  
  
“Dude, what the hell are you--”  
  
“Jared! Jensen!” Kristin sidles up to them, eyes skimming over the open whiskey in Jensen’s hand. She laughs. “Starting early, huh?”  
  
Jensen slings an arm around her shoulders, leans close. “We’re friends, right, Kristin?”  
  
“Of course!”   
  
“Jensen.” Jared sounds more than a little confused. And worried.  
  
Jensen ignores him. Rests both hands on Kristin’s shoulders and looks down deep into her eyes, voice gone serious. “Good. Because I got somethin’ I wanna say.”  
  
Kristin’s eyes flare with surprise, then excitement. “Wonderful! Just let me find us a quieter place to talk, and you can tell me anything you want about the show…that won’t get you in trouble of course,” she tags on like an afterthought.  
  
“Fuck _Supernatural_.” Jensen blows a raspberry, waves a hand, pulling her in next to him. “We have more interesting things to discuss than _that_ , right, Kristin?”  
  
“We do?” Kristin says at the same time Jared barks, “You do?”  
  
“Yeah, probably.” Jensen shifts on his feet, gesturing toward himself. “C’mon, ask me _anything_.”  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
After an hour of finding an appropriate place to “chat”, Kristin’s delighted, and Jared looks ready to chew someone’s head off. Jensen, however is feeling _fiiiine._ Maybe for the first time in a long while.  
  
“Man, fuck Jessica Simpson up her tight ass. And I mean that literally. Girl’s a _tightass_ , least she was back then. And you can print _that._ ” Jensen takes another sip, shrugs his shoulders while Jared’s mouth hangs wide open. “Eh, anyway, now I hear she’ll go elbows up for anyone on a dime--”  
  
“Jensen!” Jared finally hisses, slanting a forced apologetic smile toward Kristin and dragging Jensen away.  
  
“Hey, hey, watch the merchandise, Tonto!”  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“Oh yeah, Joanna was hot.”  
  
Jared drops his head into his hands, and everyone else waits with bated breath. Jensen twiddles his thumbs, all but whistling a tune until he realizes all eyes are still on him. Even Jared’s, although his best friend looks a little bit terrified as to what might come out next.  
  
_Oh Jay, you got no idea._  
  
“Anything else?” Kristin prompts politely, eyes wide and voice recorder at the ready.  
  
“No, really, that’s pretty much it.” Jensen slips his hands into his pockets, relishing Jared’s sigh relief as his co-star turns to shoo the reporter away under the guise of “thanks a lot, ma’am. We really appreciate your interest”.  
  
Jensen turns toward a group of college-age guys, all trying to look as bored as possible and yet staying close to the action. “Yeah, Joanna…she’s got a big mouth but…can’t really complain when that’s what I liked about her, if ya catch my drift.” Quick wink, and the guys laugh amongst themselves. Kristin turns back around, looking scandalized, but avidly interested, as well.  
  
“Oh, for the love of.” Suddenly Jared’s there, grabbing him by the arm, jerking Jensen back. “What the _hell_ are you doing? Have you lost your fucking mind?”  
  
“Hey, jus’ telling it like it is. _They_ all do it.” Sure, it’s spiteful to point out, but he no longer gives a damn. Just spreads his arms wide, sloshing his drink over the rim and onto his feet. He sends Jared a solemn glare. “Damn it! Now look what you’ve done.”  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
The best thing about repeating the same day over and over, Jensen finds out soon enough, is that there really _are_ no repercussions. He drinks himself into a stupor one night without a hangover in sight the next morning. Gets into a fight with the homophobic hotel concierge and blackens the asswipe’s eye, laughing off his threats of legal action. Fucks a pretty little barmaid, a struggling actress-- _and aren’t they all_ \--in a dirty alley after promising to talk to his agent about representation. Course, he walks right by her the next day and she barely gives him a second glance.  
  
Each of these times, Jared’s nowhere in sight. Jensen’s not sure if he’s avoiding his friend because he’s still embarrassed, hurt, pissed about Jared’s rejection, or if Jared’s presence somehow keeps him from actually _having_ a good time.  
  
_Yeah, sure, keep on lying to yourself, man. Truth is, you can’t stand to look at him. Not when you know he’d rather let some random-ass guest star fuck his mouth than hook up with **you**._  
  
Even when Jared’s not around, he’s still on Jensen’s mind. And Jensen’s a little worried about the lengths he would have to take to make it any other way.   
  
He’s half-stoned off a bag of pretty damn decent weed he bought from some guy downtown when Jared barges into his hotel room without bothering to announce himself. Jensen has the faraway thought that maybe he shouldn’t have given Jared a key, but he’s too damn pleased to see his friend.  
  
“J-money!” he calls out from his upside-down spot on the bed, waving enthusiastically. “Oh my god, it’s _Jared Padalecki!_ ”  
  
Jared huffs out a breath, expression tight and controlled like Sam Winchester on a bad day. “Are you on _drugs?_ ”  
  
Jensen thinks for a second. Beams. “Yes!”  
  
Obviously not expecting so direct an admission, Jared’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he blurts out, “Why?”  
  
“Why not?” Jensen shrugs, shimmying up the mattress and onto his knees. He holds the burning joint toward Jared’s appalled face, wiggling his brows as lazy warmth fills his body. “C’mon, man. I don’t have cooties. Got my shot ‘n everything.”  
  
“Drugs are bad,” Jared says absently, staring at Jensen’s glassy, bloodshot eyes--Jensen knows they are because he spent about twenty minutes in the bathroom trying to put his contacts in backward--and then Jared blinks, seems to come to. “ _Jensen!_ ”  
  
Jensen cringes, jumps up and slaps a warning hand across Jared’s mouth. “Shh! You’ll wake them up!”  
  
“Wake _who_ up?”   
  
Jared’s sounding pissed, but Jensen barely notices. “The bunnies!” he explains, rolling his eyes because, really, Jared’s kind of an idiot, apparently.  
  
“The…bunnies.”  
  
“Dust bunnies. Under my bed.” Jensen leans in close, smacking his lips when he catches a whiff of Jared’s cologne. “They live there. Whoa. You smell like candy.” Jensen’s tongue comes out, tracing the line of Jared’s jugular.  
  
At this, Jared about jumps ten feet to get across the room. Jensen stares after him, eyes and lips hungry, but Jared’s red-faced and won’t meet his gaze. “You’re, uh, gonna die of smoke inhalation if you don’t crack a freaking window in here.”  
  
For the first time, he notices the blue-gray wisps circling his head. “Huh. Weird.”  
  
Maybe there was something else in that weed after all.  
  
But that’s hardly important _now_ \--not when Jared’s standing there looking and smelling and _tasting_ like the best treat Jensen’s never had and, when he says as much out loud, Jared squirms and shoots him an incredulous look.   
  
“What is _wrong_ with you?” But his tone isn’t mad so much as…embarrassed? Surprised, maybe?  
  
“I wanna fuck you,” Jensen says. “And I think maybe I love you, even though you’re a total bitch sometimes. But mostly, I wanna fuck you.”  
  
“Oh my god.”  
  
Taking in Jared’s wide eyes, Jensen inhales another hit and walks over. “I saw you sucking Jonathon’s dick that day. Can’t stop thinkin’ about it, you know? Your pretty little mouth, wrapped tight around my cock.” A delicious shiver races up his spine that has nothing to do with illegal cannabis.  
  
“You…I…” He’s got Jared’s attention now, as much good as it does him since Jared _still_ won’t even look his way. “Jensen, I really think you need to lay off the pot, pal.”  
  
Just that quick, Jensen’s strung-out temper comes raging and boiling up through hazy satisfaction. “And I think you need to get the fuck outta here, if looking at me disgusts you that much, Jared.”  
  
“Jensen--”  
  
He turns around and locks himself in the bathroom, puffing away and ignoring Jared’s voice until it’s gone again, leaving him in blessed, stoned silence.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
He doesn’t even pretend to wake up the next day, having remembered everything with painful, stark clarity. Just lets Jared push him and pull him until the overgrown asshole gets a clue and finally leaves with a sigh.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
By the time he agrees to go out with Jared again, he’s prepared ahead of time. Knows exactly what he’s gonna say, and do, and when they walk into the bar and see Mike and Tom waving enthusiastically from the back corner, he pats Jared on the chest. Offers him a vague smile. “Go on ahead, I’m just gonna grab a drink.”  
  
Jared smiles, all too willing to trust the Jensen he thinks he knows, the Jensen untouched by days, weeks, of the same old humilation and despair--what, he’s an actor. He can be as dramatic as he fucking wants to be. Jared nods, walks over to their friends, already starting a lively conversation Jensen feels only a fleeting pang of regret over missing.  
  
Because he’s already caught sight of a coquettish brunette across the room, tall and long-legged and looking most definitely like she wouldn’t be against sucking Jensen Ackles’ dick in the bathroom.  
  
He doesn’t think about the beauty mark on her cheek, or the way his thumb unconsciously caresses it, circles it, sending grateful thoughts of _yes, oh thank god, finally_ running through his mind. He just clenches his hand in thick, dark hair, closes his eyes and doesn’t imagine another mouth entirely.  
  
When he gets back to the table, his cheeks are hot, flushed with orgasm, hair mussed. He’s got a grin on his face and a gleam in his eye. Tom’s the first to notice, falling silent as Mike and Jared continue carrying on about whatever they’d been discussing before Jensen had shown up.   
  
Jared eventually looks up, sees Jensen, starts to smile and ask “What took you so--” He trails off as Jensen slides into the booth next to him, long fingers curling tight around a mug of beer.  
  
“Jesus, Jensen. Who’d you have to fuck to get a drink in this place?” Mike cracks, but the joke falls flat at the look on Jared’s face. No one else seems to notice, except maybe for Tom who’s always been more aware of Jared than Jensen deems necessary.   
  
Jared’s not looking at him, but he manages a smile. “Was she cute?”  
  
The same old frustration rises up to choke him, and Jensen feels a little like rattling the cage. “What makes you think it was a she?” he tosses out before he can think better of it, can remember the other two pairs of interested eyes and ears. But Jared’s head snaps up, gaze locking to Jensen’s, and he wonders if he’s imagining the bit of jealousy darkening that easy gaze.  
  
When Jared starts laughing a minute later, clapping Jensen on the shoulder like a proud papa or some such shit, he figures it was all wishful thinking after all.  
  
“Gotta flight to catch,” Jared says a little later, and Jensen politely excuses himself. Walks outside and calls a cab to take him back to the hotel.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Things just get worse.  
  
Jensen doesn’t think he’s ever really seen Jared truly _angry_. Never for real, and certainly not at him, anyway, but there’s no mistaking that flare of nostrils, wide-blown pupils and pressed-tight lips. He sees it almost every day on set, directed at Dean or John or whatever guest-star of the week is unlucky enough to be on the receiving end. And he’s pretty damn sure what’s coming next:  
  
“What the fuck is your problem?”  
  
Oh, yeah. There it is. Slap on a hoodie or two and call him Sam Winchester.  
  
“Whassit look like?” Jensen slurs, arm wrapped tight around the the neck of the blonde girl whose face he can barely remember and whose name he certainly never bothered to find out. He slides a cheerful grin to his left, sees the dark-haired pretty boy from his first few nights at this particular club. Looks back at Jared and beams. “Fan service, friend-of-mine. Thought about what you said, and figured I’d give it a try…or two.” He wiggles his brows, making everyone laugh…but Jared.  
  
Something hot flashes through his friend’s eyes, but just as quickly it’s replaced by something Jensen doesn’t really want to label as pity. Not that he’d let that stop him, doesn’t let it mean a _damn_ \--not like Jared ever knew what he was missing anyway.  
  
“So, I guess you’re not coming to see me off.” Jared's tone's infinitely polite, and cold as a stranger’s.  
  
What’s-her-face is licking a warm stripe up the side of Jensen’s neck now, fruity lipgloss a slick-slide on flesh, and he tilts his head and tries not to think about how he doesn’t even fucking _like_ cherries. “Guess not. But you know, call me when you get in and all.”  
  
“Sure thing.” Jared’s eyes flicker back and forth as the guy slides closer, reaches down and cups Jensen through the front of his pants. “Have fun, Jensen.”  
  
“Plan to,” he calls out to Jared’s already retreating back, but now the girl’s tongue feels slimy and the guy’s hands are clammy and stifling. Once Jared’s out of sight, he pushes them away, stumbling back. When they try to latch back on, he slaps at them blindly. “Get the fuck off of me.”  
  
“Asshole,” he hears the girl hiss, feeling along the wall for the exit. Suddenly everything’s spinning too fast, everything’s too bright, and he’s pretty damn sure he’s about to throw up his dinner. Meager as it was.  
  
He barely makes it outside, the fresh air settling his stomach somewhat as he leans back, sliding down the wall with his head in his hands.  
  
“Jensen, jesus christ, what…” Concern etches Jared’s voice, and then Jensen’s being lifted carefully to his feet. Cool fingers trace his face, holding his chin and forcing him to look up and meet Jared’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Jensen blinks slowly, wanting to sob like a little fucking girl as it all finally clicks into place. “What’re you doin’ here? Thought…” Something in his stomach bubbles up again, and he clutches Jared’s arm. “Thought you left.”  
  
“I came back to yell at you some more. You’re acting like a real prick, you know that?” But Jared’s tone holds little to no heat, and Jensen groans. Leans forward as another wave of nausea builds and he can’t help thinking, _If I never throw up in front of you again, it’ll be too fucking soon._  
  
“Sorry,” he gets out around a gasp a few minutes later, rubbing at his mouth like it’ll make the bitter taste go away. “Guess I drank too much.”  
  
“Guess so.” Jared sounds tired now, and worried. His voice turns soft and pleading, pulling at something down deep in Jensen’s bones. “Jen…talk to me, man. What’s going on? You never act like this.”  
  
He has to laugh at that, considering he’s made it his life mission as of late to turn into the biggest, most unrepentant jackass the world’s ever seen. And for what? Because Jared fucking Padalecki doesn’t find him worthy?  
  
Hell, Jensen hardly finds himself worthy anymore.  
  
But all he says is, “Bad day.”  
  
A beat of silence, and then Jared sighs. Starts digging around in his pocket. “Come on, let’s get you home and to bed.”   
  
“Sure thing, Ma Padalecki,” Jensen jokes, but gratefully accepts the stick of gum Jared holds out to him.  
  
Jared’s warm laugh is like a balm, and Jensen lets his friend put an arm around him. Lets Jared lead him out to where his car’s parked in haphazard anger, and Jensen can just imagine the scene that’d taken place before.  
  
“Can’t believe you came back.” He doesn’t really mean for Jared to hear it. But Jared does all the same, and those big hands squeeze his shoulder and have Jensen blinking back tears he hasn’t cried since he can’t even remember when.  
  
This time, Jared’s sigh holds more than resignation. To Jensen it seems like relief, frustration, love…all wrapped up in a huff of warm breath. “I’ll always come back for you, man,” Jared says, just short of a whisper, and Jensen smiles.  
  
“Don’t get all sappy on me.”  
  
“Oh, shut the fuck up.”  
  
“S’more like it.”  
  
There’s a smile in Jared’s voice as he shoves Jensen playfully toward the passenger side. “Get in the car, Jensen.”  
  
“Where’re we going?” he thinks to ask, not that it matters. As long as Jared’s there, as long it’s the two of them…hell, Jared’s not the only sappy motherfucker in this relationship.  
  
Jared ignores the question in favor of, “You know you talk to yourself when you’re wasted?”   
  
Jensen blinks. “I do?” He feels like maybe that should worry him, but he can’t quite get a handle right now on _why._ “Huh. What do I say? Anything good?”  
  
Jared’s laugh is strangled, and he turns the wheel a little too hard. “Sometimes, I guess. Mostly you just, um, tell me how pretty I am and how you want me to…” He cuts himself off, biting down so hard on his lip that Jensen sees white at the corner of his mouth.  
  
He’s momentarily fascinated. “Want you to what?”  
  
“Never mind. Forget it, I shouldn’t bring it up now.” Jared’s talking too fast, cheeks two flags of color, lit up by the reflecting tail lights from the car in front of them. It makes Jensen feel hot, possessive, almost stupidly protective as he turns in his seat and licks his lips.  
  
“Bring it up,” he murmurs, voice low, challenging. He catches Jared’s wary look. “C’mon, Jay…I dare you.”  
  
“Nah, man. It’s no big deal.”  
  
Jensen’s teeth flash. “Triple-dog dare you.”   
  
“When’d you get so damn…” Jared sputters.  
  
“Stubborn?” He leans closer, lets his hand hover for a few seconds over Jared’s knee. Gives his friend plenty of time to pull away, warn him off. When Jared just swallows, throat working, Jensen drops his hand and squeezes. “When I figured out what I wanted.”  
  
“Yeah? And what’s that?” Jared’s tone turns a bit belligerent, but Jensen thinks he spies something like hope coloring Jared’s gaze. And wishful thinking or not, he doesn’t give a damn.  
  
Not anymore.  
  
“Take a wild guess.” He slides his hand up, feels just the barest hint of Jared’s erection, smirks. “Well. Looks like I wasn’t wrong.”  
  
Just like that, Jared seems to deflate right before his eyes. He pulls over quickly, switching off the ignition and catapulting them into darkness. Jensen blinks a few times, makes out Jared’s profile in the dim moonlight. His best friend is watching him, and yes, there’s definitely hope there. But there’s also the same fear Jensen’s glimpsed plenty of times before and never knew to put a name to.  
  
Now he does, and he still isn’t sure how to take it away.  
  
“Jensen.” Jared’s voice comes out whisper-soft, thrumming in the air between them, and Jensen feels suddenly shy. He holds Jared’s gaze, refusing to back down until he gets an answer. “I don’t…I’m not sure this is the best idea.”  
  
Jared’s more than a little hesitant, confused, and it’s the perfect opportunity for Jensen to take advantage. Push the situation to his liking, _make_ Jared see just how good--great--an idea it really is.  
  
Then he catches Jared’s worried gaze, and sits back. Closes his eyes. “Yeah, it’s probably not.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** there moves a thread that has no end.  
**Author:** [ ](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/profile)[**keepaofthecheez**](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/)  
**Pairing:** Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles (minor Jensen/OMC’s, Jensen/OFC’s)  
**Rating/Warnings:** NC-17 | m/m slash, real person fiction, abuse of schmoop  
**Word Count:** 20,209 words.  
**Summary:** Sometimes you get a second chance to see what’s right in front of you.   
**Notes:** See end of fic. Written for [ ](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/profile)[**spn_j2_bigbang**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/).  
  
  
  
 

  
  
**There moves a thread that has no end: Part 3.  
By keepaofthecheez.**

  
  
  
**Take Four.**  
  
  
“Get up, princess. We’re spending the day together!”  
  
This time, Jensen’s too tired to argue. Just grabs Jared by the wrist, tumbling his co-star to the bed and throwing a leg over his hips. “Don’t wanna go to school, mommy,” he groans, and Jared relaxes, lets out a laugh.  
  
“You snuggle with your _mom_ , dude?”  
  
Okay, yeah. He hadn’t really thought that one out yet.  
  
“Don’t judge me.” Jensen pops one eye open to find Jared grinning at him from a few inches away. Ignoring the jump in his pulse, Jensen rolls onto his back and grunts. “What’re you up to, Jay?”  
  
As if he didn’t know.  
  
And just that easily, Jared’s back up and running. “Big plans, Jensen. We’re gonna go out, see the sights.” He rubs his hands together, slants Jensen a mock-reproving glare. “You know, the ones we’ve never bothered with because we live like fucking _vampires_.”  
  
Jensen just smiles.  
  
“So, get your lazy ass up! Maybe you could wear that green shirt, makes your eyes all pretty,” Jared teases, and Jensen slides both hands behind his head. Watches Jared with hooded eyes, determined not to let the goddamn longing show.  
  
“Green shirt’s dirty.”  
  
“Well, damn, I just bet you can find something else…would you get the hell _up_ \--”  
  
“What do you think it means, a person keeps repeating the same mistake over and over?” The words are out before Jensen even realizes he’s thinking them, and he swallows hard when Jared turns around. Stares at him with an expression Jensen’s never really seen his friend wear.  
  
It feels like hours before Jared walks over, sits down on the edge of Jensen’s bed like he’s afraid Jensen might bolt if he gets too close. Which, he’s not exactly wrong. “Maybe sometimes you have to, ‘til you finally get it right.” Calm, reassuring, and Jensen wants to fucking cry.  
  
“Yeah, maybe.” They’re both quiet for so long, Jensen’s afraid maybe he’s missed his chance. Then Jared looks up, cat-eyes full of light and humor and every-fucking-thing that’s made Jensen fall in love with the son of a bitch from day one to day a-thousand-and-one.  
  
“What do you say…” Jensen clears his throat, can’t quite meet Jared’s gaze anymore. Just stares somewhere south of his nose and _hopes._ “We don’t gotta go anywhere, you know. Could stay here, just you and me.”  
  
It’s slow coming, but Jared’s smile is sure and strong. “Well, hell. S’all I really wanted, Jen.”  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
They haven’t gone anywhere but the bed, watching old cartoons and mocking the teenage crowd on MTV. Between blindingly colorful and explicit music videos, Jensen reluctantly admits what he’s been up to for the past month. Expects Jared to go apeshit at the very least, call the mental ward and have him locked up at worst.  
  
But Jared doesn’t say anything at all, and the moment passes by with the start of Nelly’s latest. Jensen’s not sure if it’s a good thing or not, but then Jared’s arm is pressed up against his own, and not a damn bit of it matters.  
  
At least, not until an hour later. Television turned off, the both of them just lying there, staring at the ceiling and bullshitting about every damn thing they can think of that won’t hit too close. Mean too much.   
  
Jensen looks over, catches sight of the happy flush on Jared’s cheeks. The sleepy tilt of his eyes, and he blurts out, “So, I’m completely crazy. You know that, right?”  
  
“Nah,” Jared says after a lingering second. “M’friend from home, swears Sasquatch lives in his grandma’s backyard.”  
  
Something hot bubbles up Jensen’s throat, and then he’s laughing. Fucking _giggling_ , might as well admit, and why the hell had he ever thought it would be a big deal to tell _Jared?_  
  
Jared’s grinning right back at him, eyes and lips soft, and Jensen’s chuckles eventually die down, thrusting them both back into a somewhat comfortable silence. Jensen’s nearly asleep when he vaguely feels Jared shift, coming closer.  
  
“So, I guess you’ve done this a lot,” Jared says, a bit bashfully. He’s so close now, warm breath fans across Jensen’s cheek. “Must’ve been pretty annoying.”  
  
“Never did this,” Jensen murmurs, and imagines he feels Jared’s lips brush his brow.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
There’s a moment of panic when Jensen comes awake, until he glances at the clock, sees it’s only a few hours later.   
  
Still the same day. Nothing’s changed, not really.  
  
He catches sight of Jared talking on his cell over by the bathroom, soft tones and low drawl. Rubbing his eyes, Jensen sits up on an elbow and Jared glances over. Smiles.  
  
“Yeah, see you soon.” A beat. “I will, ma.”  
  
_Oh. Right._  
  
Mood plummeting, Jensen forces an answering smile and waits, struggles to wake up more as Jared finishes his call and comes over to sit on the bed. “You gotta go,” Jensen says without prompting, because hell, apparently he’s picked up Jared’s knack for the obvious.  
  
“Getting close.” Jared doesn’t sound much happier about it, but that could just be Jensen’s wishful thinking again.  
  
“Well.” Jensen swings both legs over, levers himself up. “Lemme get dressed then.”  
  
Jared nods, although it looks like he’s got something else he wants to say. Jensen sticks close, just in case he decides he wants to let it out.  
  
After several seconds, Jared just smiles weakly, and Jensen knows it’s over. He tries not to let it surprise him, or matter, and turns toward the closet. Struggles not to bury himself in there and never come out again, because he’s a gigantic fucking _girl._  
  
Then, hesitant, “Jen, I--”  
  
A loud thump at the door interrupts Jared, followed by an all-too-familiar curse, and Jensen hangs his head. Laughs softly, because it’s probably just as well he never gets to hear the end of that sentence.  
  
“Room service!” Mike calls from behind the door, voice high-pitched and ridiculous. “Want me fluff your pillow? Jerk you off? Drive you to airport?”  
  
“You’re a total loser, you know that?” But Tom sounds as amused as always.  
  
Dragging a shirt over his head--the goddamn green one, of course--Jensen walks over, fleetingly catching Jared’s gaze, and opens the door. “Would you lunatics shut the hell up before someone calls security?”  
  
“Well, maybe if we hadn’t had to track you assholes down in the first place, we’d be more inclined to agree with your demands,” Mike says primly.  
  
Jensen fights not to rub his temples. Feels dark eyes burning into his back. “Whatever, look….let’s just go.”  
  
So they do.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Tom wags a finger. “Call us everyday. Don’t talk to strangers.”  
  
“And don’t drink the water,” Mike says. Everyone groans.   
  
Jared turns toward Jensen, expectant eyes and pursed lips, and Jensen has half a mind to screw it all, everyone, and show Jared _exactly_ why he ought to be rethinking this whole fucking trip to Texas.  
  
There’s plenty for him here, in Vancouver, and Jensen just wishes he could believe it was all that simple.  
  
“Guess this is the end of the line, cowboy.” He doesn’t choke on the words, though it’s a near thing. Wonders why this feels more like a goodbye than his leaving Richardson ever did. It’s not like they won’t be back, like he won’t see Jared again.  
  
Hell, it’s not even like any of this is gonna matter, anyway. Tomorrow’ll be today, and that’s just the fucking way it’s always gonna be. He’s given up hope on it ever changing.  
  
Jared’s smile is more than a bit unreadable, but Jensen doesn’t sense that anything’s really _wrong_. “Guess so,” he says, almost shy, and Jensen’s belly clenches. They stand there, awkward and holding back…something.  
  
Everything, maybe.  
  
“Aw, come on, guys,” Mike finally wheedles from somewhere behind him. “Jensen, I know you’re not into PDA, but give your boy a damn hug. He’s gonna be gone all--”  
  
He’s got an armful of Padalecki before he can remember moving, closing the distance and wrapping his arms hard around Jared’s neck. He hears a little laugh, Jared’s surprised voice murmuring, “Jensen” and buries his nose down against the collar of Jared’s shirt.   
  
Tom and Mike are making obnoxious kissy sounds behind them, but Jensen knows…it’s no fucking joke. Not when Jared’s got one hand pressed tight to the small of his back, the other tangled up in the short tufts of Jensen’s hair. Not when he can feel how fast Jared’s heart’s beating, and knows his own is gonna leave a mark when this is all said and done.  
  
“Be seeing you.” He pulls back, clearing his throat while Jared’s arms fall limply to his sides.   
  
Then his fist connects with Jensen’s shoulder, eyes glowing bright and hopeful. “Yeah, you will. Asshole.”  
  
“Okay, now you two girls are seriously gonna make me cry.”  
  
“Shut up, Mike,” everyone says at once, but truth be told, Jensen’s more than a little glad for the interruption.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Jensen’s halfway through the special feature on HBO-- _Sleepless in fucking Seattle, of course_ \--when there’s a knock on the door.  
  
He contemplates just ignoring it, not like he really wants to see anyone who doesn’t have crazy hair and dimples anyway. Then he figures it might be someone with the hotel come to tell him the place is on fucking fire or whatever.  
  
Maybe if his suite burned down, he’d finally be out of this goddamn mess.  
  
That darkly amusing thought in mind, Jensen pushes up, running a hand through his hair and hitching the loose band of his pants up his hips. Opens the door, wisecrack on the tip of his tongue.  
  
Jared stares back at him, windblown and flushed, and Jensen’s sarcasm curls up into a ball and dies.  
  
“Missed your flight.” He pulls the door shut and leans up against it. Totally unconcerned, except for the thread of fucking hope that just. Won’t. Die.  
  
Jared’s eyes are dark, lips curved. “I needed to take a break.”  
  
“So, then why the hell are you here?” Jensen takes in the bags at Jared’s feet, the worried-yet-determined look highlighting those familiar features. _I finally get him to the damn airport, and he fucks it all up._  
  
“Well, seems like I heard somewhere no one can resist the infamous Ackles ass.” Jared’s smile takes a turn for wry mischief, and Jensen’s belly goes warm even as Jared steps forward, trapping him against the door. Wide lips spread apart, and Jensen licks his in return. “Apparently, it’s true.”  
  
“Jay--”  
  
“Shut the fuck up, man.” And then Jared’s mouth is there, _right there_ , and Jensen’s got two seconds to make a decision before they’re both bare-ass naked in the hallway.   
  
Grabbing Jared’s arm, he kicks the door open, shoves Jared inside. Finds himself slammed up against the wall and Jared eating at his mouth like Jensen’s a fucking free buffet and, oh god.  
  
“Fuck.” He’s not sure which one of them says it, groans it, but Jensen’s the one who takes advantage of it. Slides his hand down between them, palming the hard length of dick Jared’s pumping against his fingers.  
  
“You stupid, stupid…” Jared laughs, bottom lip between his teeth and eyes heavy. “Didn’t wanna go, Jensen. You stupid fucking idiot, made me not wanna go.”  
  
Jensen licks up and under his ear, fingers curled and curved around Jared’s cock, dragging out little throaty purrs of satisfaction. “Yeah, well. Don’t get me started on you, asshole.”  
  
Jared grins, forehead against Jensen’s, and just like that, everything slows down. There’s none of that frantic gotta-do-it-now, just a calm sense of _oh yeah, this is right._  
  
They wind up on the bed, so much like before, and so completely different.  
  
Jensen glances over, lips curved into a soft grin, and Jared’s watching him. Stroking him with those lazy cat-eyes, and something in Jensen goes hot and tight even before the first husky, “Jen.”  
  
A questioning sound from down deep in his throat, and he pretends not to notice when Jared shifts closer, all body and heat. Then Jared’s hand is resting high on his thigh, and Jensen can’t pretend anymore--doesn’t know how, doesn’t want to. He looks sideways, meets Jared’s gaze, licking his lips as tension scores his nerves raw.  
  
“Jensen, I just.” A pause, sigh of breath as gentle as the breeze blowing in through the open window. “If I could’ve done it all over…”  
  
And just like that, Jensen gets it. He doesn’t waste time on the irony of the situation, just lets the relief rise up and choke him, wash over, squeezes Jared’s hand and whispers back, “Forget about it.”  
  
_Come morning, you will anyway._  
  
  
**And That’s a Wrap.**  
  
  
Jensen knows he’s being watched, something slow and sluggish making it hard for him to fully wake up. Denial, probably. He refuses to think about that, to mourn everything that happened and could’ve happened if he’d only done something better. Something _more_.  
  
He’s had enough of “What if” to last a lifetime.  
  
Waiting on that first gleeful bounce to end it all, thrust him back into the daily loop and grind, he lies there for a moment. Eyes closed, soft words, promises, fading into distant memory.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
His eyes pop open. Scan the clock-- _morning, all right_ \--before freezing on Jared, on the smile tilting the corners of his lips, lighting up sleep-heavy hazel eyes. Everything breaks apart inside, rushing to put back together, and all Jensen can manage is a stilted, “So you’re still here.”  
  
“Still here,” Jared echoes, rubbing the tip of that upturned nose against Jensen’s neck. A soft brush of lips follows, and Jensen shivers, reaches out and comes up with broad shoulders and lean hips. “Not going anywhere, either,” Jared adds, lower, quieter, and Jensen plans to deny the choked sob that escapes his throat then and there until the day he dies.  
  
“Thank fucking God.” He swallows Jared’s guttural laugh with his mouth. Rolls over onto his side, fingers sinking deep into Jared’s hair and pulling him closer.  
  
Jared mouths up under his jaw, hands crawling the length of Jensen’s back. He finally settles down between Jensen’s spread legs, hips rocking, mouth licking, sucking. Jensen lets out a rumbly growl, lifts up and tries to rub off against Jared’s thigh, hot and desperate and--  
  
“Wait.” It comes out rough and sharp, has Jensen going still, meeting Jared’s gaze. He relaxes a bit upon seeing the mirrored excitement there, then goes back to wondering _what the fuck?_  
  
“What? Too fast?” It’s hard to get out, flushed, eager, trying not to let any disappointment shine through. He’s near-on throbbing all over, and knows Jared can feel it, too. God help him if Jared’s not ready to…not ready to do _something_ , because Jensen’s barely holding it together and at this point, he’s not above humping the wall.  
  
Jared’s lashes flutter on a slow blink, and he leans down, rests his forehead to Jensen’s. “What are we, a couple of girls?”  
  
Jensen’s a little surprised to realize that the laughter ringing out belongs to _him._ Slugs Jared in the shoulder and rears up, teeth closing around the lobe of Jared’s ear. “Then fuck me, damn it. Jesus Christ, suffered enough, haven’t I--”  
  
Jared sits up, jerks Jensen’s pants down past his hips. “Don’t worry, Jen. Gon’ fuck you.” Chuckles deep, sending goosebumps scattering up Jensen’s arms. “Just wanted to see your face first, is all.”  
  
“See my face every fucking day.” But Jensen’s not exactly complaining, oh no. Not when Jared slides him a grin from under floppy bangs, peppering kisses down Jensen’s chest and looking like he’s nowhere near stopping.  
  
Dropping a hand down-- _finally_ \--into that dark mess, Jensen’s fingers clench curls and his voice goes gruff. “Thought I…” Jared’s lips wrap around a nipple, and Jensen gives a playful shimmy. “Thought I wasn’t your type.”  
  
Jared’s laugh is edged with husky mirth, his mouth slick, eyes dancing. “That’s what makes this so much fun.” He presses his face into Jensen’s belly, taking a shallow bite of abdomen and dragging a groan from Jensen’s throat while working his own pants down his hips. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a, uh, open mind.”  
  
_Hope that ain’t all that’s open_ , Jensen thinks dumbly, waiting with bated breath while Jared mouths past his navel, licking a warm, wet stripe down the curve of his waist. When he takes Jensen’s hip into his mouth, sucking a blood-bruise to the surface, Jensen’s head falls back with a desperate, “Oh god, Jay, _c’mon_.”  
  
Letting go, Jared blinks innocently and rests his chin low on Jensen’s belly. Dick pointing straight toward those pretty pink lips, Jensen bites down on his own and struggles not to buck up, slide right on in where he wants to be.  
  
“Don’t rush me. I’m tryin’ to learn you here.” Jared's fingers tease up Jensen’s thigh. His eyes are lit up, burning hot, and Jensen shudders from the sound of that deep gravel tone skittering down across his skin.  
  
“You teachers’ kids…fucking perfectionists,” he grumbles without heat, and Jared snorts.   
  
And then, _christ almighty_ , Jared’s hand slides over his hip, grasping his dick and squeezing tight. Jensen lets out a throaty moan, fucks snug fist, and through blurred vision he catches sight of the triumph glittering in Jared’s eyes just seconds before slick heat screws down around his cock.   
  
There’s no use denying it…he’s been waiting for exactly this since that moment months ago, with Jared on his knees, eyes squeezed tight, dick in his mouth. The fact that it’s _Jensen_ now, and not some nameless faceless moron who doesn’t fucking deserve the air Jared breathes is just…  
  
Well, thank god.  
  
“So, you, uh, you weren’t kidding.” Jensen swallows, sits up on an elbow and pets Jared on the head. Groans when Jared makes a questioning sound that shoots pleasurable vibrations up Jensen’s dick. “About being totally fucking gay.”  
  
Lips curved, Jared shakes his head. Grabs Jensen’s thighs and settles broad shoulders between his legs. Those dark, sooty lashes come down again, and Jensen chews his lip, watches Jared suck him down like every dirty fantasy he’s entertained for far longer than he cares to admit.  
  
His own eyes close, and he’s just getting into the rhythm of things, little grunts and groans of encouragment-- _oh yeah, little more…fuck, right there_ \--when he feels the first press of knuckle. Pressing up tight, inviting Jensen to relax, open up. Let him in.  
  
Gaze flying wide open, he finds Jared watching him. Reading every twist and whimper, and Jensen nearly swallows his tongue when Jared’s mouth slides lower. Following the crease of hip and thigh, leaving slick warmth behind. Then he can’t see Jared’s mouth anymore, but he can fucking _feel_ it, for damn sure, and lets loose with sloppy oaths even as he struggles to wrap his mind around what’s happening.  
  
“Jesus,” he gets out, staring at the ceiling, throat working. “Going for the gold or something?”  
  
Jared’s lapping steadily, and doesn’t answer except for to reach up and still Jensen’s twitching hips. Slides his hands up further, past belly and chest, until he finds Jensen’s own fists clenched tight and white-knuckled. The second Jensen looks down again, sees Jared’s gaze locked on him while that talkative tongue plays dirty, things go a bit gray around the edges.  
  
He hears himself crying out, tempting Jared to do more, lick faster. That long finger returns, circling and stretching, and then there’s two. Jensen’s cursing a blue streak, but damned if he wants Jared to stop. Just reaches down, grabs hold of Jared’s wrist and mutters something under his breath that has Jared’s brows lifting.   
  
“You’re real easy, Jen, you know that?”  
  
“Fuck me harder, you fucking fuck,” Jensen grits out, and Jared laughs. Sits up a little, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and, _goddamn._ Not fair how hot that is.  
  
“How many?” Jared’s voice is rough like sun-cracked gravel, and he shifts so he’s hovering over Jensen. Fingers buried deep, eyes watchful.  
  
Jensen makes a sound he’s not sure is a reply, and Jared bends lower.  
  
Purrs: “Tell me how you like it.”  
  
Jensen bucks his hips, and when Jared lifts up, he rolls over onto his belly and reaches back. Finds Jared’s hand, pulls it down and around his hip. “Show you instead.”  
  
Luckily, his pants haven’t gone _too_ far, so it’s no big thing to reach down, rummage around in his pocket and find what he needs. Foil packet in hand, Jensen twists his neck, meets Jared’s wide-blown eyes with a devilish smirk. Thrusts the condom into Jared’s hand. “Now, now…don’t be a fool, Jared.”  
  
The curse that follows has Jensen laughing like nothing else, and it’s the first time _that’s_ ever happened when he’s six seconds away from getting fucked into the mattress.  
  
“Gonna fucking come before I even get in you,” Jared’s laughing too, and Jensen hisses through his teeth when Jared’s cock brushes up against his ass. He’s got no illusions--Jared’s fucking _huge_ , and it’s been awhile since he took it like this--it’s probably gonna hurt like hell.  
  
As if he’s reading Jensen’s mind, Jared quiets, goes still. There’s a moment of crackling silence before Jared leans down, nuzzles the side of Jensen’s neck like the overgrown puppy dog Jensen’s often accused him of being. In fact, it actually reminds Jensen a little of Harley, and he can’t decide if that thought’s amusing or disturbing, so he lets it go with a soft snort.  
  
“You okay?” Long fingers at his hips, thick pads circling, and Jensen rolls his neck. Meets concern with blazing intent. “Cause we don’t have to right this minute, Jen. I mean, I’m more’n happy to just--”  
  
“You talk too damn much, Padalecki.” Soft, persuasive. “You don’t wanna do this, then we won’t. But don’t go and turn it around on me because I’m just fine--”  
  
He’s fully expecting the sharp growl, the nip of teeth and swipe of tongue, and grins into the pillow when Jared hisses out a filthy curse and grabs him by the hips. Lines right up and dives on in.  
  
_Motherfucking son of a bitch_.   
  
Jensen’s just glad Jared got him good and wet first, opened him nice and slow, because that’s the only viable explanation as to how this is even _working_ , and then Jared pulls back. Groans deep, shaking so bad Jensen can feel the vibrations inside.  
  
“S’all right,” he manages through thick tongue and voice, hip-roll and rock. “It’s fine, Jay, keep…keep goin’.”  
  
“Am I hurting you?”   
  
Warm breath against his jaw, and Jensen rolls his shoulders. Shakes his head. Moans a little, because he’s got a fucking Jared-size hole deep inside that needs filling, and this ain’t the time for second thoughts.  
  
“Don’t gimme that hurts-so-good crap, either,” Jared whispers, nipping his chin, and Jensen smirks. “Tell me the truth.”  
  
“Only thing hurts is that you’re _still talkin’_ ,” Jensen cracks, although hearing Jared’s bedroom voice is hardly a sin or a punishment.  
  
“Yeah?” Affection weighs down the word, and Jared kisses the nape of his neck. “I think you like it when I talk. Think you always have.”  
  
Jensen opens his mouth, sarcasm deep enough to drown a sailor on his tongue, and then Jared moves. Thrusts, slick-slide of cock and Jensen just groans out, “Yeaaah.”  
  
He’s never really been the pillow-biting type, but damned if Jared hasn’t turned him into one--fingers clawing at the sheets, hips a steady rock and roll. If that’s not good enough, Jared’s making the sweetest, _sweetest_ sounds. Saying Jensen’s name over and over, like some kind of porn video on track-skip.   
  
Before things get too close to call, Jensen raises up on his elbows, looks back best he can to meet that dark, heavy gaze. “Got anything else you wanna say?”  
  
Jared’s teeth flash, his fingers tighten at Jensen’s hips, cock surging deep. “You?”  
  
And Jensen knows just how to turn that smile back on itself. “Yeah. I love you, you fucking freak of nature.”  
  
Sure enough, Jared’s grin slips, his eyes go big and wet, then close on a choked, “Jesus, Jen.”  
  
“Now show me what you got, Padalecki.” Back arched, stretched out, cock near to bursting. Grin a mile wide.  
  
And if there’s one thing Jared Padalecki enjoys, Jensen knows, it’s a challenge. So it’s no time at all before they’re both sweaty and spent, come splashed up the inside of Jensen’s forearm, hot and sticky on his fingers, and that’s about how he likes it.  
  
Jared collapses next to him, features flushed, eyes crossed as he tugs at the condom. “Ugh.”  
  
Jensen rolls over and lets out a sigh, hands behind his head and lips spread. “Hot damn.”  
  
Jared snorts, shifts his hips and pulls Jensen up close. “Yeah, yeah. Love you, too, stumpy.”  
  
“Took ya long enough.” Jensen can’t keep the smug self-satisfaction out of his voice, and doesn’t bother trying to hide his smile when Jared twists his neck to look at him.  
  
“Always loved you, Jensen.” The words are solemn, but Jared’s grinning like a fool and it eases whatever instinctive pressure that wants to weigh Jensen down. And then _Jared’s_ weighing him down, hips up against Jensen’s, nose pressed to his own. Jensen reaches up, tangles his fingers in that mess of hair, and those goddamn adorable dimples flash. “Now’s just…a little bit different.”  
  
Jensen snorts, feeling just _how_ different in the weight of Jared’s cock grinding against his hip. “Shit, I’d say so.” He cocks a brow, feigns a pained sigh. “This gonna be one of things like where I feed you, and fifteen minutes later you’re hungry again--”  
  
Jared clears his throat. “Thin line between love and kicking your scrawny but sexy ass on back to Podunk.”  
  
Jensen rolls his eyes, but can’t wipe the silly grin off his face. Nothing’s changed, _everything’s_ changed, and hell.  
  
Damned if it’s not perfect after all.  
  
  
**The End**


End file.
